Natural Beautiful Ecstasy
by Lexie-Rae
Summary: AUish Pathan. They grow up together as best friends, some elements from the show and lots of sweet NP.
1. Wonderwall

_Fluffy, sweet Pathan here. Let me know what you think :)_

It begins with mutual contempt. And they're only five years old.

For kindergartners, Nathan Scott and Peyton Sawyer are both far too stubborn. They have their own opinions and don't mind stomping their feet to show them. The teacher despairs at both of them. As a result they spend a lot of afternoons in the classroom during recess.

It's not their fault. Not really. It's their head strong attitudes and their passion. Peyton gets been told off for not joining in with the class, instead choosing to sit and draw in the corner. Nathan, meanwhile, likes to stay out playing ball past the bell. Their teacher sees it as purposefully breaking the rules and disobeying her. Really though, they're just two kids who really love sketching and playing ball.

The first words they exchange is during one of their recesses inside. Peyton's been kept in for constantly ignoring the teacher's calls for her to join them for story time. Nathan _accidentally_ pushed a girl to the floor after landing a jump shot. It was an awesome dunk too, only the teacher didn't agree.

"Miss Carter's stupid." Nathan states, kicking his sneaker against his desk. He watches longingly out of the window as the rest of their class play happily outside.

"She's stupider than stupid." Peyton agrees, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She's scowling madly at having had to surrender her beloved pencils and pad as part of her punishment.

Nathan glances to his left. He's never spoken to Peyton Sawyer before. She's a girl. Girls are icky. But Peyton doesn't seem like the other girls. She _looks_ like a girl. She has wild curly blonde hair that's tied in pigtails and huge green eyes. She never wears dresses though, only once on class photo day. She wears sneakers and has a black hooded jacket. None of the other girls ever wear black. She's different.

Peyton feels Nathan staring and glares at him. He's annoying. He once trod on one of her pictures when he was racing out of the classroom. And he left a foot print.

She moves her scowl to his feet. His silly big feet that ruined her picture. Her wide eyes pop when she sees that he's wearing dark blue converse high tops.

"We should play a trick." Nathan says, even though Peyton's a girl and girls aren't good at pranks.

Peyton looks at him; Nathan Scott the boy who only cares about basketball. Then she sees his swinging sneakers and smiles. "Okay, but a really good one."

He promises it will be the best but they after all are only five years old. The prank – Nathan's idea – is to put pins upside down on their teacher's chair. He saw it in a movie and says it was funny. Peyton agrees that seeing Miss Carter jump up and down angrily will be funny.

And it is. All the kids in their class laugh. One kid, Tim, nearly wets himself.

Unfortunately it doesn't take Miss Carter too long to work out that the only kids with the means to do such a thing were those detained in the room for recess. That points the finger firmly at Nathan and Peyton, only Miss Carter can't quite work out which of them it was. Never for a moment does she consider that they'd teamed up. She speaks to them separately, urging them to confess or turn the other in. Both kids remain tight lipped though. Their stubbornness is irritatingly impressive.

So they both end up spending the week inside at lunchtime whilst the rest of their class enjoy the last of the fall sun.

"You didn't tell." Nathan says almost accusingly on their first day inside. He's a bit distrustful of girls, they always tell.

Peyton shrugs, "I didn't wanna."

Nathan has never understood girls. They like dolls and pink and fairies. All of which he thinks are stupid.

But Peyton Sawyer's different. She likes drawing and curling her hands into tight little fists and strawberries (he's seen her eat lunch). He doesn't think that any of those things are stupid. He doesn't really understand her any more than the other girls, but he likes her.

"Wanna play a game?" Nathan asks. They're stuck inside whilst everyone else is free to play. They're playing loudly too. It's not fair.

"Okay." Peyton twists around in her seat and crosses her legs beneath her. For the first time, he sees her smile.

* * *

Nathan reaches his hand down and feels Peyton's smaller one wrap around it. He holds onto her tightly and pulls. Her blonde head appears a moment later followed by her secret smile.

It's a secret smile because she only uses it around him and sometimes her Mom and Dad. He likes to pretend that it's just for him though.

"It's nice up here." Peyton comments.

They're in the tall tree at the back of Nathan's garden. It's where he hides when his Dad comes down on him hard or his parents argue. It's his secret hideout. Only now it's not a secret because he's shared it with someone. They've been best friends for nearly two years though and that's a long time. He trusts her.

"It's like we're closer to the clouds, like we could touch them if we tried." Peyton continues, reaching her hands up towards the open sky.

Nathan smiles, she's always saying things like that. Things that he would never think of in a million years. He likes that she shares things like it with him. He's seen her at school and he knows that she doesn't say anything like that around the other kids. She's quiet and reserved. It's only around him that she's all _Peyton_-like.

She swings her feet from the high branch they're sat next to each other on. Her black converse sneakers are loose on her feet.

Nathan reaches out and grabs her knee to still her dangling legs. She frowns deeply and looks at him with searching emerald eyes.

"Don't kick your feet." He tells her. He doesn't ask her, he just tells her.

"Why?" She's pouty and if he doesn't give her a reason he knows she'll carry on doing it just to annoy him.

"Because," He pauses and looks into his lap, "This place is a secret, okay?"

She doesn't quit frowning at him but he feels the muscles in her legs loosen. He knows she's going to stop swinging her legs back and forth.

"If your shoe falls on the ground my Dad might see it and then he'll know I come hide up here." Nathan admits, picking at the loose thread on his shorts.

"Oh." Peyton's eyes are wide with understanding.

Nathan's Dad is mean and scary. She really doesn't want to get her best friend in trouble with him.

"I won't drop anything." She promises, holding out her pinky finger. "You won't get in trouble."

He takes her finger gratefully and they shake. It's not his secret hideout anymore. It's _theirs_.

They both freeze when they hear Dan Scott's car pull into the gravel driveway. They're at the end of the yard, way out of earshot but they both stop like statues. A car door slams and they both jump. Peyton even gasps. Nathan reaches out and puts his finger over her lips in a shushing motion.

When they hear Dan enter the house they both just sit rigid. Blue meets green and they stare for a moment. Then Nathan feels the curving of a smile beneath the finger he's still holding to Peyton's lips.

She doesn't know why she smiles. It's something about a small victory over Dan Scott. It's that, or the fact that she and Nathan have their own secret place. That's kind of cool.

"Your Dad's home." She says, pulling away from his outstretched finger. "I gotta go."

It's like her signal to go home for dinner, when his Dad comes home. Nathan always hates when he hears his Dad's car. Not only does it mean saying goodbye to Peyton but it means for the rest of the night it's just him and his parents. That is not fun.

Peyton scales the tree with much more daring than any other girl Nathan knows and then he follows her down. They grab their bikes from the yard and Nathan bangs on the kitchen window. It's an unspoken code. Every day that Peyton comes round to play, he rides his bike with her back to her house. He tells his parents by banging his fist on the window. He doesn't even know if his parents hear him. It's a routine though.

Peyton kicks off first and starts pedalling eagerly. They always race. She always has a head start and he always catches her up half way down the hill. At that point they take their feet from the pedals and let gravity take them to the bottom where Peyton's house sits.

As they sail down to her house, they see that Anna Sawyer's waiting on the porch for her daughter.

"You're late, little lady." Anna says. She's not mad, not really. She knows exactly where her daughter's been. As a parent though she needs Peyton to learn how important it is to be home on time.

"Nuh-uh." Peyton argues. She's still stubborn. "Nathan's Dad just got home."

Anna shakes her head, "I said five o'clock, not when Nathan's Dad gets in."

"But-," Peyton goes to argue further.

"No buts, Peyton." Anna helps her daughter pull her bike onto the porch and wraps a hand over her skinny shoulders, "I need to know where you are. If you're not in at five, I worry."

"We didn't have a clock, Mrs Sawyer." Nathan says sheepishly, trying to stick up for his friend.

Anna smiles softly, "Thank you for bringing her home, Nathan. You should get back before your parents start to worry."

He mumbles something about his parents not caring and then waves to the Sawyer girls "See you tomorrow, Peyton."

"Bye!" She calls after him as he begins the uphill ride home.

They wave and Anna leads her daughter inside to her dinner that's waiting. Peyton takes a seat at the counter and watches as her Mom puts her latest drawing on the refrigerator.

"Mommy?" Peyton calls to her. She would never let Nathan hear her say it but she uses the pet name _Mommy_ when she's at home sometimes.

"Hmm?" Anna asks distractedly.

"How comes Nathan's Dad is mean?" Peyton asks in a way that only a child could.

Anna pauses and turns to her inquisitive daughter. She strokes her curls and sighs, "Oh, Baby, he isn't mean. He's just different to other people. He loves Nathan very much, okay?"

Peyton only frowns deeper.

"Don't believe me, kiddo?" Anna asks, laughter rippling through her voice slightly, "It's true. Some people show love in different ways though. Like I squeeze you tightly sometimes because I love you soooo much! And your Daddy throws you in the air to hear you laugh. Nathan's Daddy, he helps with his basketball because Nathan wants to play when he's older."

"He's still mean." Peyton shoots back, spinning her spoon in her soup.

"That doesn't mean he doesn't love him." Anna counters, "Sometimes it just means he loves him a lot. Boys are funny like that, honey. Like you and Nathan, sometimes he squabbles with you about silly things but that doesn't mean you don't love each other."

"Eww! Gross! I don't love Nathan." Peyton protests, wrinkling her nose.

Anna smiles, "Oh, okay, you don't."

* * *

Nathan's outside class waiting for Peyton as he always does, every morning. Everyone else has already gone inside but he doesn't want to go in without her, she'll get in a mood if he does.

The weirdest bit is that Peyton's never late and she has perfect attendance. He tries to ignore the squirming in his stomach when the janitor closes the gates.

"Nathan," His teacher's stood at the door, ready to usher him inside. There's something about her stare that makes him uneasy. He's used to getting told off and is expecting her to scold him for being late. Instead she lays a hand on his shoulder and coaxes him inside.

Everyone's sat in a stony silence and they all watch as Nathan enters on his own. He doesn't like it; his best friend not being with him. Quickly he goes to his seat near the back and slumps down. To his left is Peyton's vacant seat. They've always been placed together thanks to the alphabetical seating plan.

"Class," Miss Hayes coughs and her eyes seem to water a little bit, "I have some bad news to tell you."

Nathan looks up anxiously, before she says another word he knows it's going to be about Peyton.

"Yesterday afternoon Peyton's Mom was in a car accident." The teacher continues but Nathan doesn't hear another word.

All he can think about is his best friend. She's probably scared. She's probably pretending not to be too. Although it's probably stupid, Nathan feels like he's the only person in the world who could know such a thing about her.

"We're going to make some cards for Peyton, to let her know we're all thinking of her and hoping that her Mom gets better." Miss Hayes continues.

Nathan's face darkens at the very thought. He knows Peyton would hate cards from everyone in class. He feels like he should do something to stop them making folded paper notes for her. He can't focus though, all he can think about is her running away on her own and crying somewhere. It's the kind of thing she'd do. He knows because it's the kind of thing he'd do too.

"Nathan?" Miss Hayes calls to him and only then he realises that the rest of the class are at the front collecting supplies. "Aren't you going to make Peyton a card?"

"No." He turns his head away from her and scowls. It's a dark angry scowl but he learnt from the best. He was taught by a stubborn pouty five year old girl.

She pads to his desk and crouches to his level, "Nathan, Peyton needs her friends now and I know that you're her very best friend. She'd like a card from you most of all."

He doesn't want to write her a card. He wants to find her and make her laugh or something. He likes making her laugh.

"Nathan?" She repeats, a little at a loss of what to do.

In response he lays his head on his desk and stares to the empty place on his left. He misses her. Usually she'd be there to pull funny faces at him and would defend him against Miss Hayes. She's not there though. She's somewhere else, probably at the hospital. Nathan doesn't like that thought. Hospitals are scary.

Miss Hayes persists and eventually Nathan surrenders to her. His fight is gone. His stubbornness, determination and grit are lost. Without Peyton there with him, standing up to the teacher isn't as satisfying.

So he makes Peyton a card. It's hard because he doesn't know how to make an _I'm so sorry your Mom's hurt_ card. Usually cards have balloons or smiley faces on them. He wishes, for the hundredth time that day that Peyton was with him. She'd be good at this. She'd know what to draw. She'd even draw it for him; she loves to draw and she's great at it. Nathan isn't. He doesn't want to make her a sucky card. He wants to make her the best card ever.

In the end he draws two stick figures. One with short brown hair and a basketball under arm, the other with crayon yellow curls and sneakers. He labels them Nathan and Peyton. In case she can't tell it's them. His drawing really sucks.

Inside he uses his neatest handwriting which takes a lot of concentration; his handwriting is nearly as bad as his drawing.

_Peyton, I really hope your Mom gets better soon. She's the best Mom in the world I think. I miss you at school. Nathan._

When Miss Hayes calls for them all to hand their cards in Nathan hangs back. He folds his paper in half and slips it into his pocket.

...

Three days later Nathan finally works up the courage to go to her house and deliver his card. He walks down the road with the paper stuffed in his back pocket and tries to prepare himself for the unknown.

His Mom had sat him down and talked him through the situation. He didn't really understand it all but he knew it was bad; really, really bad. His Mom had also tried to explain death to him but he hadn't been able to get his head around the idea of someone leaving and never coming back, least of all Anna Sawyer. She was the kindest person Nathan knew, there was no way she'd leave Peyton.

As he walks down the street he sees that there aren't any cars at the Sawyer house. That means no one's home.

Yet he still goes down there and takes a seat on the porch steps. He figures they have to come back at some point, he'll just wait.

When the sun begins to set his Mom appears at the top of the hill. Usually she'd just yell to him to come home but on this occasion she meets him at Peyton's house and wraps her arm around his shoulders. She places a kiss on his head and he lets her, which he almost never does.

She guides him back to their house where Dan is sat on the couch waiting. Nathan's stomach sinks and he looks desperately to both of his parents. They just sigh and pull him onto the seat in the space between them.

It's a difficult conversation. His parents explain to him that Anna is in heaven with the angels; she's looking out for Peyton there and hasn't left her at all. He frowns and asks why. They have trouble explaining that.

Nathan doesn't understand it, he can't see how a person can be there one day and gone the next. He doesn't know why Peyton had to lose her Mom. He asks how he can get Anna back but that just makes his Mom cry. Dan looks at him and says firmly that Anna isn't coming home ever again.

Nathan tries really hard not to cry, he's a boy and boys don't cry. He'll miss Anna though and that makes him think of how much Peyton will miss her. He can't help but cry then.

...

The morning of Anna's funeral, Larry Sawyer calls round at the Scott's. Peyton's missing.

Nathan's eyes widen as he watches the grown-ups fall apart in front of him. They start discussing the possibility of her running off to all sorts of places. None of them make any sense though; the ice-cream store, the playground, the mall. Peyton isn't a kid who'd run anywhere fun, she's sad; she'd go somewhere to be alone.

Dan says he'll take the car out and Deb says she'll take a walk around the neighbourhood. Nathan slips out back when no one's watching. He frowns and tries to think of where she'd really go.

As he's thinking, he sees something fall from the large tree at the end of the yard.

He races to his place of sanctuary and nearly rips his smart clothes clambering up the branches. He doesn't care though.

"Peyton?" He calls to his friend.

Her blonde head of curls appear slowly as she looks down through the leaves. Nathan's shocked by her appearance, she's the absolute picture of sadness.

"Everyone's looking for you, even my Dad." He says dumbly. He doesn't know what else to say.

"I don't want to go." She says quietly between sobs, "So I came here to hide and then I dropped my cardigan and now it's not a secret place."

"Yes it is!" Nathan rushes to say, "It's our secret place, forever."

Her glassy sorrowful eyes turn to him, almost begging, "It is?"

She looks so dependent on him, like she'll break if he doesn't assure her it's true. He guesses that lots of grown-ups have been making all sorts of promises to her recently.

He wants to keep his.

"I promise." He says firmly.

He pulls himself onto the branch beside her and produces her cardigan from behind his back.

"They don't need to know about this place." He tells her. He knows that without seeing an article of her clothing on the grass, the grown-ups will never think to look for them up here.

"Peyton, you gotta go today." Nathan says sheepishly.

She looks down and folds her arms over her chest stubbornly, "No, I don't."

And there behind the devastation he sees his best friend hiding. She's the determined, passionate girl who's as stubborn as him when she wants to be.

"You have to go." He tells her in his best grown-up voice.

She just gives him a well-practised glare.

"My M-," He pauses as he goes to say _my Mom_, "They say you gotta go to say goodbye. It only happens one time; a funeral."

She frowns and looks to him sadly, "I'm scared, Nate."

The way she looks at him, like he can make it better makes _him_ scared. He just holds out his hand to her and she places hers inside.

He kind of knows he has to look after her forever now. He likes it though; he wouldn't want anyone else to. No one knows her like he does.

...

The summer before their freshman year Peyton's Dad takes his first job away at sea. For Peyton this means being left home alone.

She wanted to tell her Dad to stay home with her but she could see how pumped up he was about this job. She couldn't be the one to break that happiness, not when she so seldom saw it in his eyes.

"You should tell him if you don't want him to do this." Nathan tells her on the first night of Larry's week long absence.

They're at Nathan's. He invited her to stay, knowing that she was upset about her Dad going away. She said she wasn't scared to sleep alone and he said he knew she wasn't scared. They were both lying though.

Peyton shakes her golden curls, "He wants to go."

"So?" Nathan shoots back, "You're on your own."

She sighs and reaches for a soda, "Your Mom goes away on business all the time."

"But I've got my Dad here." The argument is a poor one. If anything, Nathan would prefer for both his parents to leave him the hell alone. He'd be just fine if Dan announced that he was moving abroad.

It's different with Peyton though.

She adores her Dad and Nathan knows she's upset about him leaving. That should be reason enough for Larry to stay. In Nathan's eyes, Peyton's been through enough, she doesn't need another parent deserting her.

"Can we like, change the record?" Peyton asks. She's trying to sound blunt and unmoved but Nathan sees past it, he knows that inside she's breaking apart.

"Sure." He agrees. There isn't really any point in keep discussing the issue. It's done. Talking it over will only upset her further.

She moves from her lounged position on the bed and moves towards Nathan's drawers. He watches on curiously as she begins to root through them.

"Um, what are you doing?" He asks.

She swivels on her heel, "Well I can't sleep in my jeans."

He rolls his eyes – something he got from her – wondering why she didn't bother to pack anything when she knew she was staying the night.

"Tell me you at least brought a toothbrush?" He asks, wrinkling his nose. He has certain boundaries.

She points to the back pocket of her jeans where there is indeed a toothbrush jammed.

"That's gross." He comments.

She doesn't reply, which is weird. If there's an opportunity for her to throw a jibe at him she takes it, and that was wide open for her.

He frowns, "I said you're gross."

"What's this?" She turns around, eyes glassy, holding up a folded piece of paper.

For a second he freezes. She's on the verge of tears and he hates when she cries.

"Nathan, what is this?" She demands again, thrusting the paper towards him, "Why is it in your sock drawer?"

He feels himself pale a few shades when he realises what she's stumbled upon. It's perhaps the worst time for her to find the card he made her all those years ago right before her Mom died. He doesn't know why he kept it, he just did.

After his parents had explained to him about Anna dying, Nathan had run to his room and stuffed the card in the nearest drawer. He was burying it away hoping that Peyton would never see it.

Only now she has.

He sees his frankly awful sketch of them on the front and inside his words; _Peyton, I really hope your Mom gets better soon. She's the best Mom in the world I think. I miss you at school. Nathan._

"You made me this?" She manages a watery smile.

"Yeah. Miss Hayes made us." He shakes his head realising what a thoroughly stupid idea it had been, "Only I didn't hand mine in, I kept it. I wanted to give it to you myself but then…I was too late in going to see you."

She extends her hand and takes the card from him, "Yours would've been the only one I wanted."

"I was too scared to go and see you." He admits, "I didn't know what to say to you."

She looks at the words of a younger Nathan, "I think you summed it up pretty well here. And you were great at the funeral, I'll never forget how great you were that day."

He blushes, "I wasn't, I did what any terrified kid would do."

"No." She says firmly, "You did what any best friend would do. There weren't any other terrified kids there with me. I remember going back to school and they all gave me a wide berth like they could catch 'dead Mom disease'."

"Idiots." Nathan says under his breath.

"Can I keep this?" Peyton asks lightly, running her hands over the lovingly made card.

He almost laughs, "Sure, it's yours."

"Thanks." She grabs a t-shirt from his drawer and disappears into the bathroom. He knows it's going to drown her tiny form.

He waits for her in silence. It's a precaution in case he hears her crying in the bathroom. She'll try and hide her tears, she always does. She thinks that she has to be tough; for her Dad, for her Mom wherever she is, in front of her peers, and with Nathan. She doesn't though, least of all with Nathan.

When she emerges a few moments later Nathan's relieved to see no trace of tears, only a sad look in her eye. She's wearing his t-shirt like a dress and her curls are tied in a neat little bun.

"I'm kind of tired." She says softly, "Do you mind if we just sleep?"

"Whatever you want." He agrees as she climbs into the folds of his bed. He'll sleep on top of the comforter.

He goes to the bathroom and smiles when he sees her toothbrush besides his. He doesn't know why it makes him smile but it does.

That night he doesn't sleep a wink. He just watches Peyton as she restlessly dreams. On one occasion a solitary tear leaks from her closed eyes. He's not sure if she's awake or asleep, either way she's sad. And he really hates seeing her sad.

The next morning Peyton stirs early. She's met with Nathan's sleeping face close to hers. As she adjusts her position, she realises that she's curled up in the space created by his open arms.

At some point during the night he'd broken through all the boundaries supposed to be obeyed by friends and had slipped under the comforter with her. It was purely innocent; to make sure she knew she wasn't alone.

Peyton smiles at the thought and presses a light kiss to his cheek. She really lucked out with her best friend.

* * *

Peyton becomes a cheerleader during their sophomore year.

She'd always contemplated the idea because she liked the fact that Anna had done it before her. She hadn't quite had the courage though.

That was where Nathan came in. He'd argued that she came to every game anyway and always cheered the loudest. He'd also complimented her dancing, causing her to blush.

It's during her first game cheerleading that he notices just how much she's grown up in the past year. They'd come to High School together as kids, a year on she was almost unrecognisable.

Beyond her beautiful flaxen curls and gorgeous green eyes he sees the most incredible pair of long legs and a slender body most girls would kill for. As he stares, he forgets for a second that it's Peyton, his best friend, because suddenly he's seeing another girl in front of his eyes.

She's stunning. He can't see how he hasn't noticed before. Everything from her smile to her blush stands out amongst the other girls. She's different. She's special.

He knows she's not like other girls. They've grown up together and he knows everything about her. He knows that she's not only beautiful on the outside.

With her on the sidelines cheering like crazy, he plays an incredible game. He's sure that it's down to her.

After the game he goes to find her so that they can go to the party together.

Only she's stood talking to one of the other players. Nathan feels a rush of jealousy swell inside him. He's knows it's wrong to feel any kind of possession towards a girl but he can't help from thinking Peyton's his.

...

They're at the party after the game and Nathan's drinking his weight in alcohol. He doesn't even realise he's doing it. His thoughts are so focussed on Peyton that he isn't concentrating on his own actions.

She's the hottest new cheerleader so she's attracting a fair amount of attention from both the girls and the guys. It's the guys Nathan's worrying about though.

He doesn't have the right, not really. He can't keep her from ever dating a boy or having a messy hook-up one night. He can try, he supposes, but she won't like that one little bit. If Peyton's anything, she's independent.

From his position across the room, Nathan can see her giggling at something that one of the guys has said. _Giggling_. Peyton doesn't giggle. At least she didn't, before. She's never giggled with Nathan.

She's wearing a skirt too, showing off her long legs. Nathan bets that all the guys are happy about that. He's not, of course. He's developed some kind of angry father-like position somehow. It's an ugly way to be.

"Hey cutie, great game."

He turns to the voice; it's one of the cheerleaders. He can't remember her name.

"She's your friend, isn't she, the new girl?" She asks, her dark hair failing into her eyes.

Nathan doesn't like the way she refers to Peyton as 'the new girl' but he nods, "Me and Peyton go way back."

The girl nods, and moves closer. She's practically on his lap, "Well, it looks like she's having a fine time."

He swallows thickly, his thoughts confirmed, "Yeah, she is."

The brunette besides him pouts, "I'm feeling kind of lonely tonight, this party blows."

He snorts in agreement, "Sure does."

She smiles widely, "How about we get out of here? There are some rooms upstairs."

The girl's about as subtle as a brick but Nathan doesn't care. He gulps down the last of his drink and takes the girl's outstretched hand. He's more than a little drunk but even he knows this is an idiotic idea. He doesn't even know the girl's name.

He needs an escape though. He doesn't want to watch any longer as Peyton slips through his fingertips.

...

Nathan's awoken the next morning by a blinding light.

"I have no sympathy." It's Peyton who's inflicting the torture of sunlight upon him. "Good night?"

He groans into the pillow. His head feels like a blender.

"How was little miss slutty?" Peyton asks, hands on hips.

Nathan gets the impression that she's mad, "Don't, she wasn't."

Peyton laughs. Loudly. It hurts Nathan's head, "Nate, she was a whorebag but nice work, really."

"You're pissed." He states.

"Hell yeah, I'm pissed!" She starts shouting and Nathan's sure he's about to die, "You said we'd go to the party _together_, you left me for a skanky little hoe!"

"Together?" Nathan questions, "You spent the night with half the team, none of them were me."

She scoffs, "_You _slouched off in a hissy mood. I'm not your keeper, Nate. I was having fun, I'm sorry."

"So I'm not allowed to have fun too?" He shoots, not believing that he's taking all the slack for this, "I sleep with one girl and you blow up."

She throws her hands up, "You passed out up here afterwards and I've had to wait for you to wake up."

"Sorry to have wasted your time. You didn't need to wait." Nathan says, rolling over painfully.

"No." Her voice wobbles slightly, "I really shouldn't have."

...

Nathan finds her sketching furiously in her room a few hours later. He feels like death but he can't stand that they're at odds with one another. He can't remember a time when they weren't speaking and it's a horrible feeling.

"Peyton." He stands nervously in the doorway.

She sighs and turns the volume up on her radio. She can be stubborn as hell when she wants to be, he should know.

"I'm sorry." He attempts but she ignores him.

He strides across the room and shuts off the music. His eyes fall on her drawing and instantly he feels like the world's biggest jerk.

The image is of him, half dead on a bed with Peyton stood over him. The caption reads, _"You didn't need to wait" / "No. I really shouldn't have…but I always will."_

"Jeez." He comments, "I was..."

"Yeah, you were." She agrees before he finishes.

"I'm sorry, Peyton, I was so drunk." He shakes his head but it makes him feel queasy. "I didn't know what I was doing. I saw you with all the guys and I guess I felt left out and then I went and did the most jackassy thing I could."

Her heavy eyes roll to him, "I should've hung out with you at the party."

He laughs, "Come on, I'm not that needy. You're allowed to talk to other people."

"Yeah," Her voice is soft, "And you can sleep with whichever girls you like."

"That was a poor choice, I'll admit." He chuckles, "Where were you to stop me?"

"Being a crappy friend." She offers, standing to tack her newest sketch on the wall.

It's not the nicest memory in the world; their first fight in forever, but the message is nice. No matter what, Peyton will be there for him, and they both know he'll always be there for her too.

"Still suffering?" She asks in reference to his tired eyes and pale complexion. "I'll make my miracle breakfast."

He smiles, glad to have his best friend back.

* * *

Nathan's always known that he has a brother. A half-brother anyway. It's pretty common knowledge around the town too.

Dan Scott left his high school sweetheart Karen Roe to pursue his basketball career. He left her pregnant and alone. Then he went to college and met Nathan's Mom, Deb. She soon fell pregnant too.

For reasons that Nathan's never understood, Dan chose to stand by his Mom. They later married and the rest is history, or something.

Nathan grew up with his Mom and Dad, across town his older half-brother Lucas grew up fatherless.

There are endless questions about the mess-ups Dan made. Nathan chooses not to voice them though. He doesn't see the point. It's done and there's no changing it.

To this point, they've always lived a fairly peaceful co-existence, with neither Nathan nor Lucas getting in one another's way. Then Lucas joined the basketball team.

Nathan's the jock. Lucas is the quiet bookworm. That's the way it is.

Or it was.

Nathan slams his locker closed after practise. For the first time in a long time he missed shots, he lost control of the ball and he showed a chink in his steely game face.

The rest of the room look up, interested by the show they've just seen from Nathan Scott; the guy who never messes up.

He shoots them all down with a glare and tries to ignore every thought entering his head. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Lucas. He feels his jaw set and the stares of his team mates once more.

He tries to fight the urge. He really does. But then Lucas crosses the room and approaches him. Lucas holds out a hand as though to attempt some kind of truce.

"Hey man, I don't want any trouble; I'm just here to play." Lucas says, smooth and easy.

Nathan feels his fists clench at his sides as he steps forward, "No trouble?"

"No trouble." Lucas smiles and raises his hands in a surrender motion.

Nathan laughs and shakes his head, "Trying to take my spot on the team? That's _no trouble_?"

There's a chorus of 'ooh's from the guys but Nathan silences them with another scowl.

"I'm just here to play." Lucas repeats.

"Then go play on your damn little playground!" Nathan rages, letting go of any restraint he was holding onto. "This is my game, my spot, my future!"

Lucas looks taken aback but Nathan doesn't care. This isn't just a game to him. It's his life. It's his whole future mapped out ahead of him. He won't let anyone stand in the way of that, he's worked his whole life to get to where he is and isn't about to surrender easily.

Sure, Nathan's acting like a jerk but no one gets it. No one understands. He needs basketball. Lucas has good grades and a nice supportive family. Nathan has a plummeting grade point average and Dan Scott to answer for. If he doesn't have basketball, he doesn't have anything at all.

"How about you do us all a favour and leave?" Nathan spits, "You're not welcome here."

The team jeers. Nathan's not sure if it's in support or not but he doesn't care. He'll fight this fight on his own if he needs to.

Lucas doesn't react but that only eggs Nathan on, he pushes Lucas roughly on the shoulder causing the blond to stumble. _That _notes a reaction.

All too soon they're throwing punches. Nathan's got everything to fight for and it seems like Lucas has some pent up anger too. It's not exactly a playground scrap; more a full blown battle.

Nathan distantly recognises the door to the room crashing open but he doesn't even stop for the sake of Whitey and his threats. It's about even more than basketball now.

"Stop it!"

Peyton's voice is loud over the catcalls and he can hear the desperation in her words. She shouldn't be in the guys' locker room but she is, and it's because of him. She has a sixth sense for this kind of thing; Nathan in trouble.

He feels her slender arms coil around him and instantly he's still. He's hardly going to strike out when she's there in the line of fire. Lucas takes a moment to retreat, it's only when Peyton warns him away with her eyes that he moves back.

"Break it up, ladies!" Whitey's voice booms.

Nathan and Peyton simultaneously roll their eyes.

The coach strolls towards the warring brothers, "I'll have no fighting on my team. Detention, the pair of you."

He goes to leave and then points to Peyton, "Miss Sawyer, the boys' locker room is out of bounds. I'll see you for detention too."

She knew it was coming. It was worth it though. She's no stranger to detention anyway; she's been doing it since she was five years old.

"Get your stuff." She says to Nathan who's still shirtless.

He doesn't argue, he just follows her outside.

"How did you know?" He asks when they're out of earshot.

She smiles lightly, "I just do."

...

Peyton drops her keys in the parking lot. She's juggling far too many things thanks to her ridiculous art workload.

"Dammit." She curses.

"Here," A hand offers over her dropped keys. That hand belongs to Lucas Scott. "Let me."

Reluctantly she allows him to take some of the items from her hands.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot." He says as she dumps everything onto the backseat of her car. "I'm not usually a fighter."

"Neither is Nathan." She replies bluntly.

She doesn't exactly mean to be a bitch to him but he's the enemy. Nathan's enemy at least but it's all the same thing.

Lucas chuckles at her statement, apparently like the rest of the school population Lucas thinks he knows Nathan Scott. Peyton hates that. They all see Nathan as some kind of jerk. No one ever bothers to look behind the tough exterior and realise that there's a reason for Nathan acting as he does.

"Let me guess, you think he's an ass?" Peyton supplies coolly.

"Well, yeah." Lucas answers as though it's obvious, "He wants me to quit the team. It's not his team. He may think it is but it's not."

She rolls her eyes, "God, you don't even know him."

He frowns, "Are you saying he doesn't want me off the team?"

"No, he does." She agrees, "But it's not that black and white."

"Seems pretty simple to me." Lucas shrugs, "I'm not going to quit for him. I don't owe him anything."

Peyton doesn't have the time to argue. She wrenches open her car door and starts the engine. If Lucas believes that he doesn't owe Nathan anything then he's dumber than she thought possible. She takes one last look at the blond in her rear view mirror. He's staring blankly at her; oblivious to the fact that Nathan's taken the pressure from Dan Scott two-fold.

Dan would never admit to it but Peyton knows he has dreams for both of his sons to play basketball. He can only put his energy into one of them though. So it's Nathan that suffers the perils of Dan's hopes and mistakes. Lucas doesn't have the slightest idea.

She reverses out of the bay and turns to Lucas, "Maybe you owe him everything, ever thought about that?"

Lucas scoffs, like she knew he would, "I owe Nathan nothing."

"You're kind of self-righteous." Peyton notes lightly, "Look, you're probably not going to believe me but this is true; basketball is everything to him. He acts the tough guy and maybe to you he seems a jerk but he's not. If you take that from him, if you can be so cruel to take his life away, then do it. But afterwards you'll stand back and see what you've done. You'll look and realise that maybe the one acting the jackass was you all along. I'm just saying. If you're a good player, take a different spot. You don't know what this will do to him, it will break him. And I know you probably don't care that it'll break him but it matters to me, okay? So I'm asking, please don't do this."

He stares, dumbfounded as she drives away leaving him to contemplate her proposition.

...

Peyton stands on the sideline and watches as Nathan plays the game of his life. He's pumped and passionate. He's spurred on by the fact that Dan Scott's in the crowd watching as his two sons work together on the same team. It's a special kind of fuel that's ignited a fire in Nathan.

Peyton smiles as she sees the effortless fluidity of Nathan and Lucas playing together. They're not friends and maybe they never will be but they have a shared goal; to punish Dan.

It's easy to see that it's killing Dan to watch as Nathan and Lucas play together. In a funny way it's the best thing that's ever happened to Nathan; Lucas joining the team. It's shown him that basketball is his dream; not Dan's.

When Dan learned of Lucas joining the team he instructed Nathan to do anything in his power to beat Lucas out of a spot on the team.

Nathan, the true sportsman, decided against that action. He's chosen instead to concentrate on his own game. This is _his _dream. Nothing and no one is going to take it from him. Thuggish behaviour on the court will only ruin his chances.

Peyton is immensely proud. She hasn't told Nathan of her involvement in Lucas' change of position and she never will.

It was the final push Nathan needed. He needed unconsciously to know that someone believed in his ability. By Lucas surrendering, it showed him that someone thought Nathan was worthy of the spot.

"Go, Nathan!" She screams from the sidelines as he powers down the outside of the court.

The opposition crowds him instantly. He turns and passes to Lucas who finds the basket. Nathan applauds his brother and sends a wink to Peyton.

He's not going to tell her but he knows exactly what she did for him. Lucas explained everything when he'd surrendered the fight. As it turns out, Nathan can see that Lucas is a pretty decent guy. Anyone who respects a feisty Peyton Sawyer is straight up in Nathan's eyes.

He sends a smile to Peyton; the girl took his corner and convinced Lucas the non-believer of Nathan's integrity. He has no idea how he's going to repay her for that one.

His game was heading to a pretty bad place until he heard that she'd fought for him. There's something inspiring in knowing someone truly believes in him.

* * *

Nathan gets emancipated from his parents when they're sixteen. Everyone thinks it's the coolest thing ever. Being emancipated means Nathan getting his own apartment and the freedom to do whatever he likes.

It's exciting and thrilling; he becomes a legend at school. It's as though he's won some kind of war against parental control.

Peyton though finds the whole thing a little depressing.

"What do you think?" Nathan asks her as they cross the threshold of his new home.

She drops a box down on the couch and takes it in. It's not very homely. It's cold and mature. "It feels…empty."

"Well there's no stuff in it yet!" He says joyfully.

Peyton looks at her best friend. She knows this boy inside and out. All he's ever wanted and all he's ever worked for is recognition from his parents.

He wants his Dad to tell him he's proud of his achievements and his Mom to stick around like she cares about him. This emancipation, to Peyton, feels like the final nail in the coffin for those dreams of Nathan's.

She knows that Dan and Deb Scott are far from model parents; about as far as possible. She has no doubt though that they care about Nathan. She remembers her own Mom telling her about the different ways that people show love. Anna told her firmly that Dan loves Nathan. Peyton has always trusted those words of her mother's. She still does.

Nathan pauses when he sees Peyton's eyes so full of sadness. They always have that effect on him; the power to stop him dead in his tracks. He approaches her and rubs a circle on her back.

"This is a good thing." He tells her straight. He doesn't have to ask what's made her look so forlorn; her glassy eyes always give her away.

She raises her eyebrows and speaks in the softest of tones, "It is?"

"Yes." His voice is firm. "Listen, I'm not cutting them out, okay? I wouldn't do that."

He wouldn't. He'd never purposely rule out seeing or speaking to his parents. It's not so much about his Mom and Dad's needs, but Peyton's. He knows it would devastate her to see him give up on his family. She doesn't have the luxury of her parents being around. He knows that in some ways he's lucky to at least have them there with him.

Peyton swallows and nods. She understands why Nathan got emancipated and she doesn't blame him in the slightest. She just doesn't want him to have any regrets about it. She has regrets tied in with her parents and it's a horrible weight to carry. She never wants Nathan to feel the burden of those regrets like she does.

"Oh, this might cheer you up." Nathan holds up a finger to indicate for her to wait a second. He digs in his pocket and produces a key, "This, is your copy."

Her eyes pop in surprise and he chuckles at the sight.

"Just remember," He says as he hands it over, "You are the only girl I'm ever going to trust with a key to my apartment."

"You're giving me a key?" Peyton asks for clarification.

He shrugs casually, "Yeah, why wouldn't I?"

She twirls the item between her fingers, "Because I could turn up here whenever."

He frowns, "I do that to you all the time. I practically have a key to your house, except that you never lock the door so I don't need one."

Peyton forces a sad smile. It's just hit her that her best friend is no longer just up the street from her. It was a strange kind of comfort to know that he was just a few houses away.

"I _want _you to turn up whenever." He says, settling his cool blue eyes on hers.

"Okay, well, you said it." She shrugs and smiles delicately as she loops Nathan's key in with her others.

...

Not long after Nathan's gets emancipated, Dan Scott has a heart attack.

Peyton hears about it from Lucas. Without a second thought she rushes to the hospital. No one's told her that Nathan's there but she knows him and she knows his heart. No matter what Dan's done in the past, Nathan will be there at the hospital.

And she's right.

She hurries through endless identical corridors until she finds the right unit. Then, as she's about to go back to reception and ask for help, she sees him.

He's sat on a hard plastic chair, his back bent over and his head in his hands.

She simply walks to him and presses a kiss to his head. Her hands slide around his shoulders and squeeze him in as soothing a manner possible.

"You came." He rasps.

He doesn't have to ask who it is.

"Of course I came." She shakes her head and drops into the seat next to him.

Although she can't see his face, he smiles gratefully, glad that his best friend's there with him.

"You could've called me, Nate. You _should've_ called me." She tells him softly.

His head shakes, "I didn't want to drag you into this. I didn't want you to have to come here."

She knows what he means. He didn't want her to have to come back to the hospital where her Mom died.

"Well I'm here." She says, closing the issue, "Now tell me what's going on."

Finally he lifts his bowed head. He seems calm, to the outsider. Peyton though sees through his act. His eyes are fretting and his complexion's pale.

Her heart tightens, seeing him so. She knows how it feels; she's been there and lived it. She would never wish it upon anyone, at the very least her best friend.

"He had a heart attack." Nathan shrugs, "He's unconscious. Mom's a mess. And I'm just here waiting."

"Then I'll wait with you?" Peyton proposes.

He nods thankfully. Her being there is making him feel better already. She offers a soft smile and laces her fingers between his.

"I don't know what to feel." He looks to her desperately.

Their eyes meet and Peyton feels every stab of pain pouring from his cool blue orbs.

She squeezes his hand, "Whatever you feel, it's not wrong."

He nods and looks to the ceiling, "I don't want him to die."

Instantly she pulls him into her arms. She feels his arms coil around her back and his hands grasp at the material of her shirt. He needs a life raft. And he needs her to be that life raft.

She's probably the only person in the world that could possibly begin to understand the complexities of what he's feeling. And he's so glad she turned up unannounced, because he doesn't think he's ever needed anyone more.

He can't rely on his parents to understand and he really shouldn't even entertain the idea of Lucas. His Uncle Keith has always been at odds with his older brother and his grandparents aren't worth the thought. He has Peyton and Peyton alone.

"Thank you." He says into her ear.

"Anytime." She whispers back.

...

Nathan stares at the grave before him and gulps down all of the sickly feelings trying to flood him.

Peyton glances to her left and sees his distraught expression. She wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his shoulder, "You okay?"

"Yeah, God, I'm fine." He says but it's obvious he's not.

She sighs at his broken figure, "It's okay, you're allowed to not be fine."

"It's not fair." He mumbles in a barely audible tone. "It's not."

"No, it's not." Peyton agrees, hugging him tighter to her.

Boldly he steps forwards and places a posy of white flowers ahead of the gravestone. Peyton sees him brush the back of his hand over his eye and her heart melts a little.

"How do you do it?" Nathan asks in a quiet voice, "How do you manage everyday without your Mom?"

Peyton looks to the floor but smiles softly, "I have the world's best friend, without him, I'm not sure I could."

Nathan smiles slightly; he doesn't agree that she has the world's best friend because he's pretty sure he's the one with the best friend anyone could ask for.

"You know that you've been beyond awesome too, through all _this_." He waves his hand at that last word, unable to clarify what _this _is.

Peyton pads over to where he's crouched before the grave, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, "I told you, I'm here for whatever you need."

"Yeah." He nods, "Thanks for bringing me here today, it's given me prospective."

She nods and traces her fingertips over her Mom's name on the gravestone, "I know your Dad's not the nicest and all but I would never want for you to lose him. I'm glad he's going to be okay."

"I guess I am too." Nathan said uneasily, "As much as he's a jerk, saying goodbye to him forever, that would be insane."

Peyton nods and laces her fingers through his. He gives her hand a squeeze in comfort.

"It's horrible." She agrees. "Losing my Mom was the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Nathan closes his eyes. Anna Sawyer dying is also the worst thing that's ever happened to him too, purely because it's the worst thing that's ever happened to Peyton.

* * *

Peyton wipes her fingertips underneath her eyelids to erase the trace of tears. He'll probably know that she's been crying but she does it all the same. After a quick scramble she finds her keys and lets herself into his apartment.

She shouldn't just let herself in. It's the night of Winter Formal and he's bound to be with his date. She needs to see him though and she needs to tell him what a gigantic ass he is.

There's no sign of the couple in the living room so Peyton can only assume that he's moved things on quickly to the bedroom. It's typical Nathan. Typical assy Nathan.

She throws her bag down on the counter and helps herself to a drink. She hears the pipes rattle and then the rushing of the shower. She rolls her eyes at the sound and then gulps down her whiskey.

Sighing at her self she grabs for her bag and goes to leave. She shouldn't be here, not tonight, not in this mood. Her heels click on the flooring and echo around the walls.

It makes her feel lonely.

Her hands close around the doorknob, cool beneath her fingertips. She goes to wrench the it open but something stops her. A voice. His voice.

"Peyton?"

She turns. He's there in just a towel. His hair is a soaked raven black and his eyes are deep sapphire blue. A concerned deep sapphire blue.

"I'm not here." She shakes her head and pulls open the door.

He rushes to her and catches her slight wrist in his hand, "You are here. Why are you here?"

Her heavy stare pierces him but he doesn't recoil. It would cause most boys to run. His grip on her doesn't loosen in the slightest.

"Your dress." His brow furrows deeply and anger flashes in his eyes when he sees the tear in the shoulder strap.

"It's not what it looks." She rushes to assure him, "I ran out. He was just trying to stop me, it was innocent."

Nathan's jaw clenches, "Why did you need to run out? What did he do to you?"

She notes the fury in his voice, "You made me run out. Not him. You!"

That makes him recoil, "Me?"

"Yes!" Her hands fly upwards, "You and your stupid words. You telling me that I shouldn't sleep with him just because it's the Formal."

"Well you shouldn't." Nathan says strongly.

"God, you don't have the right to tell me that!" Her hands curl into tight fists and Nathan knows she's about the unleash the stubborn fiery girl he fell for back when he was five years old. "How dare you, Nathan! How dare you tell me what I can and can't do! It's my life. My decisions. My mistakes."

She may be feisty but he's always been able to handle her, "Then why didn't you do it? Why didn't you live your life and make that decision?"

"I did! You arrogant ass!" She rages, "That was my choice not to sleep with him."

He glances left and notices the newly opened bottle of whiskey on the countertop, "Why did you come here? To tell me this? That you can make your own decisions? I've known that forever."

"No." She pulls her fingers through her ribboning curls, "To tell you that you didn't have to ruin Winter Formal for me. You shouldn't have done it. So stop doing that, okay? Stop getting involved."

His mouth hangs open for a second, "Stop getting involved? That's what we _do_, Peyton. It's what we've _always_ done."

"I know." Her voice is a whisper. "I know."

Her eyes close and he sees a single tear leak from her lashes. Instantly he goes to stroke her sadness away. Her hand closes around his arm and she holds it still, his own hand still grazing her cheek.

He notices how frighteningly fragile she looks tonight. She's always so strong, so determined and so forceful. It's horrible to see her hurt and troubled. He wishes there was something he could do to take all the pain away from her, to clear her heart of all the suffering it's ever had to endure.

"I will never not care for you." He tells her forcefully.

She nods, her eyes still closed tightly to him. He knows that she's fighting the threatening flood of tears and that near on kills him. It's hard enough to see that she's upset but to see that she's trying to be strong in front of him too, that's shattering. He doesn't want her to hide from him of all people. He wants her to feel as though he could come to him with anything.

"I couldn't do it." She whispers shakily. "I heard your voice and I couldn't go through with it. I just ran."

"It's okay, that's okay." He pulls her into his hold and squeezes her tightly.

She rests her head on his shoulder, "I just left him. What kind of person does that?"

"The kind who makes her own decisions, right?" Nathan echoes her earlier words.

He feels her sigh heavily, the cool rush of her breath on his neck.

It's horrible to see her this way. She's punishing herself for no reason. She's done nothing wrong in his eyes, if anything, he's proud. He knows she doesn't see it that way though.

"Formal sucked." He announces suddenly.

It did suck. He spent the night with a girl that didn't interest him. The only girl he has ever had eyes for spent the evening in the arms of another guy.

She laughs lightly into his neck, "Yeah, it did."

He has to smile slightly at the fact that she's in his arms now. It may not be Formal and she may have turned up to yell at him but it doesn't matter.

Peyton pulls away and bites down on her lip, "Thank you, for ruining Formal."

She's not being sarcastic, she's being sincere.

"No, I'm _sorry_ for ruining Formal." He counters. He's glad she ran but he hates that she was so upset that she'd come to him in tears.

"How about we have our own Formal?" He suggests.

She eyes him suspiciously but a sly smile appears across her lips. He crosses the room and pulls out a CD she recognises; it's one of her mixes. She's surprised that he still has it and that it's so close to hand. She made it years ago when she first started burning CDs. During that time she probably made him about ten mixes a week.

"How old is this?" She asks as the sounds of _Oasis_ begin to fill the room.

He quirks a smile, "It's the first one you ever made me."

"…_Today is gonna be the day, that they're gonna throw it back to you…"_

Nathan moves to the kitchenette and produces a box from a drawer. Curious, she walks over and is surprised at what she sees. It's a corsage and it's the exact same shade of blue as her dress.

Nathan pulls her towards him and slips the white corsage she's wearing from her wrist. "I knew he'd never get the right colour."

"…_By now you should've somehow, realised what you gotta do…"_

She smiles at Nathan being right and allows him to present his offering in perfectly matched midnight blue.

He's in a towel and she's in a Formal dress but it doesn't matter. He links his fingers through hers and wraps an arm around her waist. They dance in the small space between the couch and the counter.

"…_I don't believe that anybody, feels the way I do about you now…"_

It's ridiculously perfect somehow.

Peyton rests her head on Nathan's shoulder. He's the only boy who she's ever let in and he's never let her down. Not once.

"You look beautiful tonight, by the way." Nathan says softly, swaying them gently to the music.

She smiles and lets him twirl her in his arms. It feels natural, it feels right.

"…_And all the roads we have to walk along are winding,  
__and all the lights that lead us there are blinding.  
__There are many things that I,would like to say to you,  
__but I don't know how__…"_

Slowly she lifts her head and looks into his deep blue eyes. At that very action she feels her heart rush. She bites down on her lip, not believing everything her body is screaming at her to be true.

She watches as his brow furrows slightly and absently she wonders if he's feeling the same thing as her.

Nathan brings his hand to her cheek and brushes a sweeping curl behind her ear. Immediately it bounces back and they both smile.

Her eyes fall to her feet as she tries to push away all the ridiculous ideas that could ruin the best relationship she has in her life. No matter what, she can't ruin that.

Nathan lifts her chin and forces her eyes to his. Then, without so much as a second's warning he takes each and every one of her ridiculous ideas a culminates them into one swift smooth kiss.

Her eyes widen in delighted surprise as he watches on with a terrified expression.

"…_Because maybe, you're gonna be the one who saves me?..."_

She laughs lightly, its happiness mixed with wonderful disbelief. Her hands reach along his jaw and cup his handsome anxious face. She then pulls onto her tiptoes and presses her lips against his, putting an end to any of his doubts and worries.

"Pretty left field." He comments, to which she bursts into a smattering of gorgeous laughter.

"I kiss you and you say _pretty left field_?" She cries between chuckles, "This has been building for more than a decade and you say _pretty left field_?"

He shrugs and smirks his famous Nathan Scott grin, "Yeah, I do. We're anything but mainstream, Sawyer."

She can't disagree with that. There's something she loves about it too.

"It's always been you, Peyt." He shakes his head at the fact that it's taken him so long to realise. "Since day one, there's never been another girl. Not even close."

"…_And after all, you're my wonderwall…"_

She's ecstatic, she can't remember being ecstatic before but she is now. Really, really ecstatic.

"You're my girl." Nathan picks her up and spins her around to emphasise his point. He drinks in her infectious laughter, barely believing that the stunning girl in his arms really is _his _girl. He hadn't realised how much he'd truly wanted this until he'd kissed her and put it all on the line.

He's not sure quite when he fell for her, it was somewhere between the first time they spoke and the second, he's sure of it.

He was pretty much screwed from the moment he first laid eyes on her at five years old; she had him _then_.

There never was and never will be another girl like her, he knows. She's sharp and biting, sweet and sincere, beautiful and flawed. And he wouldn't change one little thing about her.

"Put me down!" She cries, kicking her legs in protest.

He complies and stares for a second into her wondrous emerald orbs. He can't picture a single day ahead when he won't look into those gorgeous eyes. It may only be the beginning but he's already lost in forever with her. There's no way he's letting her go.

He doesn't say he loves her, but it's on the edge of his lips. He doesn't want to scare her away with big words and promises – he knows how she is – but he really does love her. He can't envision a single thing that could change that.

"My Mom was right." Peyton says lightly, grazing her hands over his bare torso.

He leans down and delivers a kiss into her hairline. At the mere mention of her Mom he's comforting her, "She was right about what?"

"She was right when she said that I loved you." Peyton reveals smiling softly. "She said that when we were seven years old, that we loved each other."

"She _was _right." Nathan smiles, losing his hand in her ribboning curls, "I do love you, and I always have."

Peyton throws him a half smile, perfectly sweet, sexy and soft all at once. He pulls his girl towards him and kisses her perfect lips, exactly as she'd hoped he would.

This is how it should be, the most natural beautiful ecstasy.

* * *

_Thank you for reading, it was a tad long! If you want a follow-up, let me know ;) Lexie._


	2. Silver Lining

_Hi there! I have to say a massive thank you to everyone who read the first chapter and a special thanks to those who reviewed/favourited/alerted, it really means a lot. _

_So I'm totally getting carried away in the story of these two, this is headed towards being a disjointed chapter fic. _

_This chapter is a few years ahead. The title is from a song of the same name by _Hurts_ my newest obsession. Check it out! there are some really gorgeous lyrics that scream NP to me, especially relating to this chapter._

_**Twenty-Two: Silver Lining. **_

"Did you seriously hide my clothes again?" Peyton stands at the end of the bed pouting. Her hands are on her naked hips and her skin is still glistening from the shower. She looks gorgeous.

Nathan lazes on the bed, staring back in amusement, "Stay in, come back to bed."

She rolls her eyes at his immaturity even though secretly she loves it. He's twenty-two and still acting the kid. It's a good thing she's around really, to keep him in check.

"I have to go." She says in her most serious tone. It's hard to be serious though when he's being so playful and damn sexy.

He's practically always sexy, that's what you get when you date a ball player Peyton supposes, or at least it is when you date Nathan Scott. It's nearly ten and Peyton has a meeting at eleven. It's a big deal too; she's hoping to use the guy's space as a gallery.

It's her first venture since leaving college and she's terrified.

Nathan's tried to assure her that it doesn't matter; he can support them both on his wage. He's about to sign his contracts to play pro ball for the Charlotte Bobcats so she doesn't need to fret. He's told her she can sketch as a hobby but she doesn't want to do that. He loves that about her.

"Babe, you've got ages." Nathan whines, pulling his own sulky face, "Just five more minutes, then I'll give you your panties."

"Five more minutes and I'll give you a blow to the head." She snaps bluntly, "I need to get ready; this is a huge deal for me."

Nathan flops back down on his pillow, "You're gonna ace it, no question."

"You are unbelievable." She moves to the dresser, grabs the first pair of knickers she sees and begins to step into them.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Nathan calls from the bed, "That is not in the rules of the game! You are not allowed to quit and just grab any old pair from the drawer. They're not sexy! How are you going to nail this without your lucky underwear?"

Her eyes narrow at her boyfriend, "What the hell are you suggesting?"

"That the sexy set I've hidden are lucky! You can't go in those old ones." Nathan explains, he never meant anything else for a second.

"I can and I will." She returns, "I don't have lucky underwear."

Nathan's brow furrows, "But we always have better sex when you wear the black set."

Peyton snorts, "Well maybe someone shouldn't have hidden them then?"

He pulls a face, unimpressed. He's soon distracted by her ass though, no matter what panties she wears, it always looks fantastic. He crawls to the end of the bed and teasingly gives it a little slap.

"Nathan!" She doesn't bother to turn around; she just reaches her hand behind her and catches the side of his head with her swing. "Quit it."

"Can't do that." He smirks. And he really can't.

To her he may be acting like an idiot but really he's just trying to distract her nerves away. He knows what a big deal today is and she hardly slept at all the night before. He didn't either.

He watches as her slender body disappears into a fitted black dress, much to his disappointment. She turns her back to him and he zips her up. He takes his time about it too. Afterwards he presses a kiss into her neck to tell her that he's finished.

"Thanks," She says and begins to hop about, attempting to slip her heels onto her feet. It's never been one of her talents.

Finally she straightens, shoes on, "What do you think?"

"Technically, I'm completely biased." He says truthfully. He'd hire her if she was in sweats.

She sighs through a small smile, "Seriously, Nate, do I look professional? I need him to know I'm not going to host some kind of celebratory frat party there."

Nathan kneels on the bed so that they're almost the same height, "Babe, you look perfect, I'm serious. Professional, organised, business-y. You'll knock 'em dead."

She quirks a smile, when she needs him to be, Nathan is serious and assuring. "Thank you. Now I'm gonna shoot."

He glances to the bedside clock, "You're kind of early."

"I know but I want to be prepared, I want to get some of the pieces out to show him." She says, her nerves leaking out in the most subtle of ways.

He nods, "Okay, I'll walk you out."

Grabbing her purse from the side, he jumps up from the bed and takes her hand. He's still in his boxers but it doesn't matter. He walks them from the bedroom through to the small open plan kitchen and living area when he pauses to grab a bagel.

Her eyes fly at him but he only shrugs, "What?"

She shakes her head, and although she tries to hide it, she smiles her secret smile.

He pulls open the door and stands back for her to walk out before him.

"It's raining." She notes, her eyes lingering over his bare torso.

He holds up a finger indicating for her to wait a second and then produces an umbrella. For her.

She laughs and tries to push him back inside the apartment but he's too strong, "I said I'd walk you out."

Quickly she gives up fighting; she won't beat him on this one anyway.

"You're going to be fantastic." He says straight faced when they reach the car, "I love you."

"I love you too." She smiles weakly and delivers one last kiss to his cheek. Droplets of rain fall from his soaked hair onto her nose and somehow that makes her smile.

…

Nathan's pacing when he finally hears her key click in the lock. She's later than he expected but he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

He rushes to the hall where she's slipping her heels from her feet. Her body language tells him everything he needs to know. She goes to hang her coat but Nathan doesn't wait for her to finish, he just wraps his arms around her tightly.

The coat falls to the floor as her arms reach around his back. Her head falls onto his perfectly placed shoulder.

"I'm sorry." He strokes her curls, "Guy must be an idiot."

She sighs but doesn't say anything.

"Come on." Nathan takes her by the hand and leads her to the kitchen. He sits her at the counter and places a glass in front of her. "Any drink you like."

"Any drink?" She returns, eyebrows raised. He's good at taking her mind from things. "Okay, root beer float."

He smiles and shakes his head, he knew she'd pick root beer float. He takes the awaiting bottle from the refrigerator and a carton of ice-cream from the freezer.

Peyton sets her chin on her hands and watches him measure her preferred portions, "It smells good in here."

"I made lunch." He offers, throwing his hand back at the Mexican feast awaiting.

"My favourite." She notes, pleased that she has Nathan to come home to.

He grins and pops a straw into the frothy topped drink, "Hungry?"

"Ravished." She laughs. He didn't need to ask, they're both hungry most of the time.

He begins to plate up, tilting his gaze to her slightly to analyse her mood, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." She takes another sip of her drink, "There's not much to say."

Nathan nods, placing her plate in front of her. He then rounds the counter and slips his arms around her waist, "His loss."

She forces a smile.

"I really shouldn't have hidden that lucky underwear should I?" He shakes his head.

She laughs at him and he's relieved to hear the beautiful sound.

* * *

Peyton's sketching when she takes the call.

She's at their apartment due to the fact that she still hasn't found herself a studio or a gallery. She tells herself that as soon as she gets studio space it will be easier to secure a gallery; it will look more professional. She doesn't want to rent a studio until Nathan's first pay check though.

So for that reason, she's still in the disorder of the second bedroom when she gets the call.

She nearly doesn't hear her phone. She has a habit of playing her music far too loud. It's only by chance that she sees the screen of her cell flashing. She frowns at the unrecognised number but answers in case it's someone calling about space for her gallery.

"Peyton Sawyer?" It's a female voice, which for some reason makes Peyton's heart jump a little. She's been dealing with corporate men. This voice is gentle, kind even.

"Speaking." She quickly moves across the room to shut off her music.

"Miss Sawyer, you're listed as Nathan Scott's emergency contact." The woman says softly.

All blood drains from Peyton's face and she freezes with shock and fear.

"Miss Sawyer?" The woman calls down the line.

"Peyton." She manages a whisper, "Please call me Peyton."

_Miss Sawyer_ sounds serious and she can't cope with serious, not when it comes to Nathan.

"Okay, Peyton." The woman speaks slowly, "I'm afraid that Nathan was involved in a vehicle collision earlier, can you get to County Hospital?"

Peyton feels her heart begin to hammer crazily against her chest, "Is he okay?"

Her voice is small and weak, not like her at all.

"His condition is serious but stable." The woman says, "Can you get to the hospital?"

"Yes, yes, I'm coming." Peyton assures her urgently before hanging up.

She rushes from the bedroom and grabs her purse that's luckily hanging in the hall. She almost never remembers to hang her purse on the hook. It's usually thrown down on the couch or the kitchen counter.

She digs desperately for her keys as she skids out of the house. She's in an old pair of jeans and one of Nathan's shirts she wears to paint in. Fortunately she's wearing her sneakers after having gone to the store earlier for milk. She doesn't think she would have stopped to put them on otherwise.

Even though she's just heard that Nathan's been in a car accident, she still drives like a maniac. She's unstable and can't stop the flood of tears from obscuring her vision. It's a miracle that she makes it to the hospital without being in a collision herself.

She runs to the front desk. She can't remember running anywhere in years.

"Nathan Scott."

The clerk looks at her questionably.

"Peyton Sawyer. My boyfriend, Nathan Scott, he was in a car accident." She manages to choke out between sobs.

"If you'd take a seat, someone will call you through." He says in a dull tone.

She looks to him desperately but he just continues on with his paperwork. Sighing slightly, she does as she's told. She figures its best she takes a few minutes to compose herself anyway. She'll be no help to Nathan if she's a blubbering mess. Which she is.

Somehow, she manages to locate a compact in her purse. She wipes the tears away and fixes her mascara. She takes a deep breath and sets her face.

She needs to be calm and in control. It's what he'd do for her and it's what she's going to do for him. Inside she's completely falling apart but she won't show him that. She can't. He's going to need her to be strong for the both of them.

It seems an eternity that she waits for someone to call her through but it gives her time to perfect her game face.

"Hi, I'm Julia, we spoke on the phone." The nurse, says kindly.

"I'm Peyton, hi." She says in response, "How is he?"

"He's doing well, he's stable. He hit his head in the crash but it looks like it's just some bruising and a slight concussion." Julia reels as they enter the labyrinth of corridors.

Peyton lets out a small sigh of relief, "That's good, that's good."

"In the impact he also cracked a few ribs but they will heal with time." Julia continues to which Peyton nods, thankful that his injuries are all things that can be fixed.

Julia pauses when she reaches the door to what Peyton suspects to be Nathan's room.

"Nathan sustained one other injury in the accident." She looks into Peyton's fretful eyes and takes a deep breath, "It's common in such incidents that when the driver sees the possibility of a collision they will press down hard on the brake pedal in an attempt to prevent an accident. This is what Nathan did."

"I don't understand." Peyton says, wide eyed.

"When the cars hit each other, the force of the impact is generally taken in the ankle and leg that is tensed for braking." Julian explains.

Peyton brings a hand to her mouth and feels the onset of tears once more, "Oh God."

"Nathan suffered a dislocation and serious fracture to his ankle." Julia finishes.

Peyton looks to the ceiling, trying to put the tears at bay. She knows this is bad news for Nathan. He's about to sign his contracts, he's about to make his start in the NBA. This is going to bring it all crashing down.

"How is he?" Peyton asks. It's clear that she's no longer asking about his physical condition.

"He's pretty distressed." Julia gives a weak smile, "Are you ready to go in?"

Peyton says she is but really she's not. In reality she'd like some time to process what she's been told. She knows though that on the other side of the door Nathan's suffering through the same thing only a thousand times worse.

Julia pushes the door open slowly and Peyton's eyes fall instantly on her boy.

He looks broken. His face is dark and sad.

It hurts her heart to see him like it. She notes his elevated leg and her stomach sinks to the floor.

She rushes to the bed and takes his hand in her own, cautious of the tubes and lines snaking from his hand and chest, "Nathan, I'm here, I'm here now, okay?"

He turns to face her, his movement slow and pained. His cool sapphire orbs are lost and afraid. She runs her fingers delicately along his hairline, careful to avoid the angry bruising along his left temple.

"I was so scared." She whispers, "I'm so glad you're okay."

"My ankle, Peyt." His voice is strangled and afraid.

She kisses him lightly on the cheek, "It's okay, we'll get there, okay? We'll do whatever it takes. I'm going to get you the best doctor there is."

"What if," He pauses and closes his eyes momentarily. Peyton can see that behind those closed eyes, he's suffering more pain than the doctors could ever realise.

"No." She says firmly, "No what ifs. I'm going to get you to the NBA whatever happens, I promise you."

He opens his eyes and Peyton can see the tears building. Nathan never cries.

"Peyt," He swallows thickly, "It might not happen, I know that."

"No you don't! You don't, okay?" Her voice is shaky but determined, "Don't you dare give up on me, Nathan Scott. We'll get you there."

For that, he loves her more than he thought possible. Their whole future plans have just fallen down around them but she doesn't see it as a problem, more a hurdle.

Someone brings a chair over for Peyton but she chooses instead to settle on the bed besides Nathan. She's wary of his cracked ribs and aching body but she has to hold him somehow. Sitting next to him and holding his hand won't do.

She casts her eyes from his head to his feet. There are cuts and bruises trailing the length of his body, a particularly angry stream down his left torso. Then there's also his ankle, strapped into a support. It looks excruciatingly painful.

It looks bad. It all looks bad.

"Does it hurt?" She asks softly, stroking his torso lightly in an attempt to comfort him.

He swallows thickly and settles his deep sapphire orbs on her fretful emeralds, "Not so much now."

He lifts his hand slowly to pull her baggy shirt back over her bare shoulders. It must have fallen down at some point during her rush to his bedside.

She looks to him threateningly, "Don't move."

Gently she places his hand back on the bed. She doesn't want him to make any unnecessary movements. She's there now for anything he needs.

She looks again into his striking eyes, "Was it scary?"

He knows exactly what she's doing. Distraction. They both use it in situations like these. He's definitely better at it tactically but she has the advantage that she can distract him by merely walking into the room.

"It was quick." He tells her. He thinks about his words. He knows that whatever he says she's going to link to her Mom's crash. He doesn't want her to know about the terror and the heart stopping fear. "It happened in a flash."

She nods somewhat serenely and he knows that he's done his job.

"Do you want me to call anyone?" She asks lightly. His parents are a delicate subject.

"No." He frowns deeply, "Not yet. I need to know everything before Dan barrels in."

Peyton can't quite place when it was that Nathan started to call his Dad by his first name but he hardly ever uses the affectionate term any more.

"I'll handle him." She assures him.

"Still, not yet." Nathan says, "I've got you and that's all I need."

…

Peyton listens as Nathan huffs and sighs through the night, unable to rest easy and sleep. She tries to soothe him by massaging his shoulders and kissing his skin but he finds it impossible to drift off. She's sure he hasn't had a decent thirty minutes sleep since returning from the hospital two days ago.

"Nate." She whispers to him.

In response he just strokes her hair. He's all too familiar with her adorable habit of muttering words in her sleep.

"Nathan, how can I help you sleep?" She whispers, shuffling onto her side.

The moonlight from the window shines over his eyes as they move towards his girlfriend, surprised to see her awake.

"You should sleep." He tells her.

"And just how am I supposed to do that when you're so restless?" She puts to him, leaning up on her elbows so that she's in the position to gaze down at him.

Reaching up he laces a finger through one of her tumbling curls, "I'm keeping you awake."

She shakes her head purposefully, "No, I can't sleep when I know you're worrying."

He hitches his eyebrows at her perceptiveness, "It's nothing."

"Yes, it is." Her wide beautiful eyes roll to him, "Please don't keep anything from me, Nate. I hate to see you hurting."

His breath catches in his throat, "I can't help from thinking about what I'll do if I don't make it to the NBA – because I might not."

"You don't need to worry about that." She tries to assure him, "It's early days, you can't plan for an uncertain future, those plans will only fall through."

A short bitter laugh fills the room, "Like planning to play basketball and those plans falling through after smashing my ankle up?"

"No." Her voice is firm and sure. She reaches for the light and snaps it on temporarily blinding them both, "That wasn't a plan. That was a dream. They're very different."

"Jeez, that light!" He moans.

"I know, I'm sorry!" She crawls to the end of the bed and grasps blindly for a discarded item of clothing to throw over the dazzling brightness.

They both sigh in relief when they get their sight back.

"Plans are different from dreams." Peyton says to re-enforce her point. She's sat on top of the quilt in just her tiny vest and shorts. "Dreams are essential, without them we'd have nothing to aim for and nothing to fight for. We have that okay? As soon as you start making back-up plans you risk falling into them for the sake of an easy life."

"Maybe it would be an easier life." Nathan reasons, "Easier for me and easier for you."

Peyton turns her head slightly to shield him from the tears building in her eyes. One of the things that she's always loved about Nathan is his fight and his fire. She cannot stand to see him losing that.

"I don't want easy." She says firmly. "I want a gallery and a boyfriend who earns money playing the game he loves. And if I have to fight like hell to get there then I will. It'll make the struggle and the pain worth enduring. Rewards don't come for free."

Nathan stares on in admiration. Her face is determined and her eyes are shining in the way that he loves. Behind her the light of the bedside light creates a halo effect around her head. He thinks that she may just be his angel. Even though he's losing all and any optimism about his dream to play, she's refusing to let go.

"This is just a glitch." She says, rising from the bed and heading into the living room, "Just a glitch."

Nathan sighs heavily. He knows that he's piling everything onto Peyton and he hates himself for it. He's being pessimistic and negative whilst she's trying to keep them afloat. She's giving it everything she has too, he knows. He's sure that a part of her just wants to run away and cry for all of the dreams falling at their feet. But she hasn't. She's loyally stood by his side and is keeping his dream alive for him.

She returns to the bedroom a few moments later when he's still wrestling with himself.

She pads over to him, a tumbler of water in one hand and a couple of pills in the other.

"They'll help you sleep." She tells him. He takes her offering without a word.

Careful not to disturb his injuries, she climbs into bed beside him.

"Thank you." Nathan says as she snaps off the light.

She nods and curls up next to him. A few minutes later she's already snoring softly.

Nathan sighs, pleased that she's finally resting. He knows that all the while he was lying with worry she was there worrying over him too.

She shifts subtly in her slumber and mumbles softly, "_I love you, Nathan._"

That's just what he needs to hear.

…

Peyton flurries into the apartment, throwing her keys down haphazardly and dropping her purse on the floor.

"Nathan?" She calls, "Nate!"

She hears a gruff noise from the lounge where she finds him struggling to stand from the couch.

"Hey, let me help you." She says quickly and rushes to him, hands outstretched.

"I can do it." He tells her irritably. He shifts his crutches slightly so that he's turned away from her.

She steps back in understanding, "I know you can."

The fight's been harder than truthfully either of them expected. It's tested them, both as individuals and as a couple.

As well as hospital appointments and therapy they've had to cope with the emotional strain which has proven to be the most challenging part.

Nathan's always been the strongest and most capable of people, it's been a tough blow for him to have to rely so heavily on others. He hates that while he's practically housebound, Peyton's always watching out for him. It's only because she's concerned, he knows and appreciates that but it doesn't make it easier. From a very young age he's always been independent, it's testing to now have that luxury stripped away.

The situation hurts Peyton in similar ways; to see her hero struggling desperately almost breaks her heart. Due to the fact that her temporary studio is in the second bedroom of their apartment, she's always with him. She likes and hates it all at the same time. It's nice that she never has to worry if he's okay but it's simultaneously tiring to constantly watch over him. She definitely babied him during those first few weeks. She didn't mean to but she couldn't help herself. He was hurt and grappling with the situation.

A few weeks down the line, Peyton's now learnt that he has to work through this his way. As he continues to try and reach his unsteady feet, she steps back and goes to make them both a drink. If he doesn't want her help then he won't want her to stand and watch him struggle either. She respects that.

He hobbles to the counter just as she's setting the drinks down. He lets her take his crutches and rest them against the side as he heaves himself onto a bar stool.

"Thanks." He says, nodding towards the drink.

She shrugs away the thanks and turns to him, eyes shining. He smiles softly at the sight; it's been a while since he's seen her incredible green eyes at their usual magnificence.

"Guess what?" She's practically bouncing with happiness which in turn makes Nathan happy.

It's been a tough few weeks; happiness hasn't been around for a while. It's been all doom and bad news with the briefest flashes of hope.

"I got a job today!" She reveals, unable to contain herself any longer.

Nathan's surprised and his face doesn't hide it, "A job? You mean you got a gallery?"

It's been her dream since college to have her gallery, he's quite sure that she's never wanted to do anything else.

She's always been artistic. He remembers that she was sketching the first time he ever saw her, back when they were five years old. Since that day her talent's only grown. She's a master of all styles and instruments. He'll always favour her inky black illustrations but really she's amazing whatever she creates.

At Duke, when he was playing ball, she studied the history of art whilst perfecting every angle of her work. He's sure that it was then that she really fell in love with the idea of getting a gallery. And he's always supported that wish – not because she's done the same for him – but because he truly believes in her ability.

Peyton's lips purse at the mention of her dream, "No, I got a job, not a gallery."

She watches as his brow furrows and the excited expression fades away.

"The gallery will come." She says firmly, "But for now, I've got a job as a secretary."

He stares to her, dumbfounded. She isn't secretary material.

"Nathan, could you at least pretend to look a little pleased for me?" She requests a little sadly.

He shakes his head, "You don't have to do this. You shouldn't have to do this; I can call in a loan from my paren-,"

"No, no way." She puts her foot down, "I'm twenty-two years old and I'm more than capable of earning a living."

"Are things that bad?" He asks tentatively. Peyton handles the bills and the finances, she's always been better with figures than him. Now he's regretting the fact that he never so much as asks how they're doing for money.

She looks down and he knows instantly that things are bad.

"We're okay." She lies through her smiling teeth.

They're not okay. They can't be. He can tell from the look in her eye. The look says that she's disappointed in herself. Which of course is ridiculous.

Nathan sighs at the realisation. His jaw sets and his stare falls to the floor.

It's his fault. Maybe not directly but he should have been paying more attention to things like money, he's never exactly been one to worry about it before.

"Hey," She rounds the counter and takes his chin in her hand, "Me working isn't a bad thing. It's a good thing. It'll be good for both of us to not be in each other's way. I get in your way when you're doing your exercises and you get in mine when I'm trying to paint."

Nathan's not convinced that this could ever be a good thing. He hates the idea of her having to work a monotonous job to support them. It's his duty to do that, not hers.

"Would you cheer up, already?" She demands bluntly in a typical Peyton fashion.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be." He says glumly, glaring down at his heavy ankle cast.

She smiles softly, "But it's the way it is."

That depresses the hell out of him.

She pouts a little which he finds both irritating and adorable "I'll wear slutty secretary outfits if it'll make you feel better."

The strangest thing is that it doesn't make him feel better at all. If anything it makes him feel worse.

Her hands fall to his broad shoulders and her whole body seems to slump dejectedly, "It's just a stopgap. I can still sketch and paint; it's not the end of the world. You focus on getting back to fitness and I'll worry about the numbers."

He has never felt like less of a man than he does in that moment. Even when he was stuck in the hospital and was relying on her to help with the most menial of tasks, he felt more of a man than he does now.

He reaches up and tucks one of her soft blonde curls behind her ear and then strokes his hand down her cheek, resting his finger over her lips. She still takes his breath away with her beauty, every single day.

His hand moves to her chest, above her heart. He feels it beating furiously beneath his skin. He's sure that her heart is the most beautiful piece of her. It's her heart that he fell for, truly. She's selfless and it's the most incredible quality.

She leans down and kisses him softly and then kisses him again, "I love you, and so don't you dare try to talk me out of it. I know you'd do the same for me."

And he would. In a heartbeat. He'd move the world for her if he had to. That doesn't stop him hating the fact that she's making such sacrifices for him though.

…

"Ten more." Peyton demands, looking down at him with a determined stare.

Nathan sighs; when he'd first suggested that she come to the gym with him whilst he trained he hadn't expected for her to take it so seriously. He'd assumed that she'd sit in the café listening to her i-pod or something. He should have learnt a long time ago to never underestimate Peyton Sawyer though.

His training sessions are at six in the evening, by which time she's already worked an eight hour day. The last thing he thought she'd want to do after that is train with him.

"Come on, Baby, ten more." She repeats. She's taken to being his personal trainer and she trains him damn hard.

She raises an eyebrow as though questioning whether he's got it in him for ten more leg presses. She knows as well as he does that he can't back away from a challenge.

He smirks and begins the torture, grunting through the pain. It hurts but he has to fight it. He won't make his dream by sitting back and waiting for it to come to him. It doesn't work like that. Dreams don't come easy.

"Both feet." She snaps to ensure that he's not just relying on his good leg to pull him through.

He wipes the sweat from his brow when he finishes, "Happy?"

She smiles, "I think so. You're improving, I can see it every day."

She offers her hand and he rises to his feet, pulling her into a hug as he does so. He thinks she may be the best trainer ever.

"Ew, you're disgusting!" She moans, wrinkling her nose, "You're sweating all over my blouse."

"Ah, I never liked that blouse." He laughs. He really does hate that blouse, it's everything that Peyton's not; corporate and ordinary. "It'll look much better off."

In response she whacks him around the head, "No way are we doing anything at the gym!"

"Spoilsport." He teases, grabbing his towel from the side and heading towards the locker room.

"Hey, Hotshot." She calls after him. He loves when she uses that nickname. She's biting down on her lower lip and staring at him through lust filled eyes, "Don't bother showering."

He grins and sends her a wink. He loves his girlfriend so much sometimes.

* * *

Peyton hates her job. She hates the work. She hates the hours. She hates her boss. There's not one single thing she can say she likes about it. Not one.

It's the reason that Friday evening has quickly become her favourite time of the week. Not only does her working week end on a Friday night, but Nathan doesn't train on a Friday. They always spend the evening together, usually just wrapped in each other's arms eating takeout but she wouldn't have it any other way.

As soon as she enters the apartment she kicks her shoes from her feet. She's looking forward to resting her aching soles in a pair of cosy bed socks and enjoying Friday night with her boyfriend.

"Babe, hey!"

Nathan greets her in the hallway. There's something strange about the action that puts Peyton on edge.

"Hi," Her tone is drawn out and her brow furrowed, "What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on!" He's a little too quick to assure her and his voice is fast paced and nervy, "Well, I was thinking I'd take you out tonight?"

Peyton eyes him suspiciously. They don't really have the money to go out and she'd been looking forward to their night in.

"Come on; let me take my girl out." He tries to persuade her with the assistance of his best puppy dog eyes.

Not once has she ever been able to say no to that look he's giving her. Her lips twist and he smiles. He knows that he's won.

"I was looking forward to not wearing heels tonight." She sighs before Nathan scoops her up and spins her in his arms.

"I'll carry you!" He offers as she laughs and kicks at him.

Honestly she has no idea what has gotten into him. She suspects that maybe he's going a little mad from being stuck in the apartment all day with no one for company. She knows that it would drive her insane. It's not really fair for her to shoot down his idea.

As Nathan sets her back on the ground he delivers a soft but meaningful kiss to her lips, "You could wear flats."

She laughs; he's desperate to go out. "You like my legs in heels."

Without warning he kisses her again, "I like your legs whatever, as long as they're walking next to mine."

"They'll always be walking next to yours." She assures him, wrapping her long arms around his broad muscular shoulders.

Beneath her hold, he begins to fidget.

"What is with you?" She demands. He's hiding something, she's sure of it.

"Nothing, nothing," His face breaks into a wide smile, "I made reservations, we should get moving."

Peyton rolls her eyes as he twists her around and pushes her towards the bedroom.

"I've run you a bath, candles, smelly stuff, a magazine, everything, okay?" He gushes, indicating towards the en-suite.

She looks to him amused and overwhelmed. He's being incredibly sweet but she feels as though they're on some kind of high speed challenge, "Would you relax already? You're putting me on edge."

"I'm sorry." He says immediately, "Go and unwind, I'll get your clothes sorted."

"You'll what?" She throws her hands up, "Nate, what kind of ambush dinner is this?"

He pulls on his pleading eyes again, "Peyt, I just want this to be perfect tonight, okay? Let me pick out my favourite dress of yours, please."

Her curls bounce as she shakes her head and laughs, "Fine, you crazy man. You can sort out my laundry too whilst you're there."

She throws him a suggestive look and steps out of her dress and underwear, leaving it in a heap on the floor. It's a surprise when he doesn't moan and sulk. He just scoops it up and puts it in the laundry basket.

"Who are you?" Peyton frowns entertained by the new version of her boyfriend.

He tries to keep calm. All he wants – for once – is for her to get into the bath for a quick soak and then get dressed so that they can go. Usually he'd love for them to take their sweet time getting ready together. Tonight it's taking everything for him not to be seduced and distracted by her beautiful body stood teasingly in front of him.

When she finally closes the bathroom door he sighs in relief. He's panicking massively about every detail and failing to hide the fact from her. He doesn't know how he expected to hide anything from her; she's always been able to read him.

He works quickly as she bathes. He changes into his best suit and lays out her dress and shoes.

The dress is an utter masterpiece. It's almost flesh tone in colour, a kind of soft pinkish peach with a few scattered sequins. The material is light and floating. It's short too, like all of his favourite dresses of hers. If he didn't know any better he'd have sworn it was designed with her body in mind. It manages to show off all of her best assets, of which she has many.

Firstly and most obviously her gorgeous legs are on full show. The open back design means that Nathan can settle his hand on her warm skin at any opportunity which they both love. It's cut perfectly so that not only is there a nice amount of cleavage on show but it's impossible for her to wear a bra with it. Her ass always looks fantastic under the skin coloured material and somehow it even makes her eyes shine brighter. One day Nathan wants to shake the hand of the designer.

When Peyton emerges from the steamy bathroom, wrapped in a tiny towel, her eyebrow quirks, "Is there an occasion I should have remembered?"

They're not all about the details. On more than one occasion they've both forgotten their anniversary. The way that Nathan's dressed in his most devilishly handsome suit though has her worrying slightly.

"No, I'm just celebrating you." And he is.

"Kinda cheesy." She remarks playfully, pleased that it's not some landmark moment she's bypassed.

He loves that she's playful but they really are in a rush. "I don't want to miss our reservation."

She bites on her lip to refrain from laughing at his desperation, "Got it."

He runs his fingers through his hair telling Peyton that he's nervous about something. She lets it go though, sure that her stubborn boyfriend will reveal nothing no matter how hard she probes.

Nathan watches on painfully as Peyton slowly and sexily moisturises her skin, reapplies her makeup and fixes her hair. He wants to rush her but he can't, he's both transfixed by the show she's giving and enthralled by how she's somehow managing to intensify how beautiful she is.

Every inch of her seems to glitter. Her skin is glistening in the light causing Nathan to nearly abandon his plans and order her to bed. Her makeup is flawless, her eyes lined to accent their sparkling beauty in just the way he likes.

What he likes most though is what she's done with her hair. She used some kind of frightening looking device to erase her curls for the night. In replacement she's wearing the most seductive style he's ever seen. It's shaped around her face beautifully; long sweeps of her golden strands almost cover one eye. Resting on her shoulders it flicks softly in different directions. Really it should be illegal.

"Do I at least get a clue?" She pouts, slinking up to him once she's ready.

"No time for clues." He says firmly. He takes her hand so that she can't dash away for a forgotten item and leads them to the car.

In a gentlemanly act he holds open the door for her. She smiles graciously at his courteous behaviour.

"This is killing me, you know that?" She says as she slips into the passenger seat. She hates surprises.

"Oh, yeah, I know." He cackles. He knows that she hates surprises but he loves the look on her face when the surprise is revealed. It's priceless. He hopes that tonight is going to be the most priceless of all.

He rounds the car and gets in behind the wheel. As he fires up the engine, Peyton goes to switch on the radio. His hand launches to hers, preventing her from switching the dial.

She throws him a look, he knows better than to intervene when it comes to music.

"Let's talk." He suggests, "No radio."

"Okay." She agrees reluctantly, her mind whirring as to what's got him acting so bizarrely.

He's so clearly anxious that she can't help but smile and play along. Whatever's going on – and she really has no clue of what – it's big. He's put a lot of effort into the night. He's even sweating.

She leans over and wipes her finger along his clammy brow, "Please don't panic about whatever this is."

He manages a half-smile which she finds adorable.

"So where are we going, can you tell me that?" She asks.

"Yeah, I guess. The steak place we went to when we first moved here."

Her eyebrows fly skywards. The steak place is expensive, ridiculously expensive. Gorgeous food and a great atmosphere but through the roof prices.

"Nate," She whispers, almost gasping, "Are you-?"

"Sawyer," He reaches a hand across to stroke her bare knee, "Be cool, okay?"

A short beautiful laughs clears her lips. She used to tell him the same thing before every one of his big games.

…

Nathan takes her slender hand in his as she steps from the car. He keeps his eyes on her expression. He watches as it changes to complete wonderment and surprise.

The restaurant is empty. All the tables are pushed aside save for one that's set for just two. The lights are dim and there are candles scattered all around the vast space, including a lit walkway leading from the doors to the table.

"Is this for us?" Peyton questions, completely in awe.

"Sure is, Baby." He kisses her on the lips. When they part they share the same smile. Peyton's eyes are watering a little too.

Nathan offers a squeeze to her hand and leads them inside.

He helps her to her seat and orders champagne. All the while Peyton's eyes are sparkling wildly. He thinks he could stare at her all day, looking as she does.

"You have to tell me what the hell's going on!" She hisses from across the table. She's demanding and threatening him with her eyes.

He just loves her.

"Okay." He clears his throat. "I'll let you into a secret."

She gazes to him curiously. They don't have secrets.

The champagne arrives and they each take a glass in their hand. Nathan takes a cheeky sip to try and settle his nerves.

"Right." Nathan finally lets his waiting wide smile break free, "I got a call this morning. The Bobcats redrafted me. I made it."

She's speechless. Pride wells and instantly chokes her, preventing her from clear speech. Her eyes fill with tears and a ripple of surprised delighted laughter flows from her lips.

"Nathan!" She rises from her seat, rounds the table and pulls him from his to encase him in a bone crashing hug. He feels her tears as they soak his cheek pressed against hers.

"Please don't cry." He requests, he hates to see her tears, even if she's happy.

"I can't help it." She laughs again, "I'm so freaking happy! You did it, Nathan! You really did it!"

"No," He shakes his head, "_We _did it."

Her slender fingers enclose around his face and all he can see is her beaming smile. "I am so proud of you, Nate. I can't tell you how much."

Nathan coils his arms around her bare back and pulls her towards him, "I couldn't have done this without you. This is to say the smallest thank you for your faith, determination and love. I wouldn't have got here if it wasn't for you."

"Don't, Nate." She warns. "This is your achievement, your night, your dream, okay?"

He smiles (he can't help but not) but doesn't agree.

…

By the time they reach the dessert course, they're both sure that they're contracting some kind of cheek muscle injury. It just can't be possible to smile so widely for so long without doing some kind of injury.

"We could get dessert to go." Peyton suggests through raised seductive eyebrows and her never waning beaming smile.

Nathan feels his sweat breaking again as his hand instinctively falls over his pocket.

"I have one more thing to do before we go." Nathan reveals, taking her hands across the table and linking his fingers through hers.

She looks on expectantly, an exuberant wave of adrenaline coursing through her whole body.

"Peyton," He looks down and smiles, "This day is probably the second greatest of my whole life; coming second only to the day you became my girl."

She smiles at his sweetness.

"Making pro ball and having you to share that with is the most incredible feeling. I'm so excited to finally tell you that you can quit your crappy job and I can start making your dreams come true like you have for me. This is the first day of the rest of our lives, Peyt." His voice is shaking from the sheer excitement.

"It really is." She agrees happily.

"This day wouldn't be what it is without you and I really mean that. You've been the most incredible tower of support, not only through my injury but always. I can't help but wonder what I did in a previous life to deserve a girl like you; it must have been something phenomenal. Truly I'm the luckiest guy in the world."

Peyton shakes her head and gives up the fight against her forceful determined tears.

"I remember the first day that I met you; that day in detention where we hatched the dumbest plan ever to get our own back against our teacher." Nathan pauses as they both laugh, "I love that you're still that same girl. You haven't let anything change you, least of all me. You're stubborn, strong and determined. You're heart stoppingly gorgeous and you have the most beautiful soul. You make me laugh every single day. And you've made me a better man than I ever could've been without you. It's because of you that my dreams have come true, through your utterly selfless gorgeousness. I only hope that I can repay you in the same way because it's the most incredible feeling. You deserve to feel that. You deserve everything and more. I want to give that to you."

Reluctantly he lets go of her hand to reach into his pocket. Inside is a small ring box.

Peyton gasps at the sight, her bright emerald eyes widen further still.

"Peyton Sawyer," Nathan moves to bended knee before her, "Will you do me the greatest honour of making my other dream come true? Will you marry me?"

"Yes! God, of course!" She nearly launches herself at him for a hug but her eyes catch on the ring he's holding out to her. It's the most gorgeous white gold with two small diamonds encasing a blue-green dazzling aquamarine stone.

"Nathan, this is, how did you?" She stumbles over her words, completely stunned.

He smiles and wipes away her tears with the pad of his thumb, "I spoke to your Dad, he wanted you to have this ring."

She nods and beams a watery smile, extending her hand.

Gently he slips Anna Sawyer's ring onto her delicate hand. It's a perfect fit.

"I love you, Peyton." He says, allowing a single tear of his own to escape his eye as they share an indescribable elation.

Peyton notes his tear of joy and gently punches his shoulder, "Scott, be cool, okay?"

They laugh together at the inside joke that is so perfectly them.


	3. You're my Star

_Hey there, thank you again for your lovely words and for reading! I don't think I got around to replying to those of you who reviewed the last chapter but I really do appreciate you taking the time to leave your thoughts._

_So I keep changing my mind about what this is. It was supposed to be a oneshot and then I just kept seeing flashes of their future together and I found myself writing it…so, that's where I am at the moment. I think I'm going to stick at this time period where they're twenty-twoish and their careers are just taking hold. _

_A quick warning that the end of the chapter heads a little towards some smuttiness. Nothing major but I'm warning you all the same. Chapter title comes from a Stereophonics song. It's the song I see playing in the car in this chapter._

**_You're my Star_**

Peyton rolls over drowsily and reaches her hand across the soft sheets, her fingers grasping for the familiar touch of her fiancé's warm skin. Her brow furrows in confusion when she's met with thin air and cool bed linen. Her eyebrows knit together as her eyes slowly flutter open to see a vacant space at her side.

She sighs lightly and stretches her gaze to the bedside table belonging to her missing other half. The neon numbers read 6:03. It's Sunday morning. The day of rest. The day meant for lying in, eating breakfast in bed and not bothering to dress. It's not the day for early morning runs.

Peyton curls her legs high to her chest and stares forwards. It may be early but she doesn't like to sleep when Nathan's not there. She likes to fall asleep curved in his secure embrace with the scent of his fresh just showered skin wrapped around her. Sleeping alone in their big empty bed isn't the same. She contemplates getting up and making breakfast for them both but chooses to stay in the lonely swathing of the quilt. It will be easier to pout and accuse him of deserting her if she's still lying in bed when he returns.

He's dedicated to his game. She knows that, she's _always_ known that. And she understands; she's the same way. The previous few months though, when Nathan was recovering from the car accident, she didn't have to share him. And she liked it. Weekends were especially nice. Neither of them would have anywhere to run off to and they'd waste all the time away in each others company. They even went to the hardware store together and Peyton really hates that stupid place.

Waking up on a Sunday morning alone, for the first time in months and months leaves her with an ache for her man.

She heaves another sigh and pulls herself into a seated position; suddenly the idea of waiting to tease Nathan is no longer appealing. As she turns to swing her legs out of the bed, her eyes lock on a familiar sight, causing her breath catches in her throat.

The profile of his athletic body stands out against the light streaming through the doorway to the hall. His arms are folded over his chest and there's a contented smile playing across his lips.

"How long have you been there?" She enquires, frozen in her action of reaching her toes to the hardwood flooring.

He shakes his head, powerless to quit staring or even form the words for an answer. She's in one of his old college t-shirts which is one of his favourite outfits on her. The cotton of the makeshift nightshirt barely grazes the top her thigh, so he's treated to a show of her long slender legs. Her eyes are bright and wide, even though he knows for a fact that she's only just woken up. And she's doing that pouty-frown thing that he secretly loves.

"It's Sunday morning." She says, slipping from the folds of the bed.

She slinks slowly and so damn sexily across the room to where he's stood leant against the doorframe. He watches every step she takes, his smile curving more so at the sight of her walking on her tiptoes.

"I'm dressed like this and you're seriously looking at my feet?" Peyton questions, as she runs her fingers through her wild curls.

He shrugs and pulls a proud smirk to his lips, "What? Can't I admire my handiwork?"

She rolls her eyes but doesn't argue against him. The boy may be useless with most chores but he's damn good at painting her toenails. Presently, thanks to his expertise they're a velvety violet.

Her hand grazes his smooth shaven jaw as she reaches him, causing her brow to crease in confusion for a second time that morning.

"What?" He questions as he leans down to kiss her good morning.

"You shaved." She states. It's just past six and he's clean shaven. "And you're not in your running gear."

He's sure she only notices these kinds of things when he doesn't want her to. Usually she'd be oblivious to the little details.

"I didn't go running." He tells her, begrudgingly, watching on amused as the cogs of her mind whirl.

"Then where have you been so early?" She asks, "And don't you dare say secret girlfriend or I will pummel you."

He shakes his head, "She's out of town anyway."

Peyton's bright eyes storm with irritation. He's so mesmerised by the fierceness of her stare that he's not prepared for when her fist collides with his muscular upper arm. "Jeez, you can punch."

"I swear to God, Nathan, if you don't quit that joke," She says, trailing off.

He inches his eyebrows upwards, thinking that she hasn't got a threat in her.

She glares, "I'll find myself a secret boyfriend."

"And I'll beat his imaginary ass." Nathan returns stiffly. He doesn't like the idea of even an invented other man.

Peyton snorts at his jealousy and then reaches up to kiss his lips. Without realising it, Nathan can be incredibly sweet.

"Maybe he'll seduce your slut of a pretend girlfriend. Then you'll have to stay in bed past six so that I can wake up next to you." Peyton suggests none too subtly.

"So you're pissed about that?" He questions.

Her eyes narrow, "Well it depends where you've been. You could redeem yourself if you're hiding cakes and pastries somewhere on you."

"I can't tell you where I was." He says boldly, "It's a surprise."

"But I hate surprises." She counters, her shoulders slumping in disappointment.

He tilts his head as though questioning the statement. He lifts her left hand and angles it so that the ring on her finger catches in the light.

"You didn't hate the last one too much." He points out in a gloating manner.

"This better be good." She warns. She really hates waking up alone.

…

After they finish breakfast – cooked by Nathan as a sort of apology – Peyton says she quickly has to change something on one of her pictures.

Nathan huffs a little at the announcement. He has plans for the day and they don't involve Peyton locking herself away in the bedroom sketching.

"I'll be ten minutes." She says softly.

Ten minutes is code for two hours.

Nathan falls dramatically onto the couch and groans into a cushion, "It's Sunday."

She snorts at him recycling her earlier phrase, "Ten minutes then I'm yours. You can load the dishwasher while you wait."

"Gee, fun." He says sarcastically as she rushes away. "Ten minutes and I'm claiming you!"

He's sure that she hears his call but she doesn't reply. He sighs as he begins to scrape their plates. He appreciates how her muse gets inspired at the most inconvenient of times and that she has to draw the idea immediately. It doesn't stop it from being irritating though. Now that he's training for his first season in the NBA, their time together is even more precious than before. Sunday is like a sacred Nathan and Peyton day; at least that was his plan for them.

He doesn't blame her for spending some time drawing, not at all. He just misses her so damn much sometimes that he doesn't like to waste any of their time together. It's his fault – the reason they're apart so much. And he hates that, he really does but he knows that she supports him and his dream of playing.

So patiently he loads the dishwasher and washes his hands. Then he stands against the counter and painstakingly waits for the minutes to pass by. He even gives her an extra five minutes grace.

Then he gives up on the patience and lets himself into her temporary studio which was once their guest bedroom.

"I said ten minutes!" She cries when he barrels in.

"You've had fifteen." He replies, casting his eyes over what can only be described as the utter chaos she's created in the cramped space.

She glances to the clock and bites down on her lower lip, "Oh."

"What are you creating?" He asks, "Besides complete anarchy."

"Hey!" She calls but smiles all the same. She's not the tidiest of people.

Carefully she adjusts the easel she's working on to give him a better view of the masterpiece.

"This is called, um, _loneliness_, I guess." She stares along with him, analysing her newest conception.

The picture is of a figure stood boldly on the railing of bridge across a river. It's all in inky black and white, Peyton's trademark style.

"It's," Nathan's falters for a compliment, "I mean it's amazing,"

It really is. Her attention to detail is striking. The flow of the girl's whispering hair in the breeze and the surge of the violent river is all captured. Nathan swears that as he stares he can hear the water rushing and the girl's desperate breaths.

"But?" Peyton queries.

"Well," Nathan swallows his fear, "It's kind of depressing."

Peyton frowns at his critique and turns back to the image as though she hadn't seen that angle in the picture before.

"But it's hope." She argues, pointing to the background of the sketch.

There, at the end of the bridge, Nathan can now make out the figure of a man, his hand held out towards the girl.

"He's going to save her." Nathan says in understanding.

She nods, "Yeah, he's always going to save her. No matter how bad it looks."

"Peyt," Nathan's eyes are no longer on the sketch. He's now staring at his glassy eyed fiancée.

She turns, and gives him a firm look, "This isn't me."

He nods but she reads the doubt on his features.

"Maybe subconsciously, in the fact that I miss you when you're not around the apartment all day." Peyton shrugs, brushing the issue away, "And like in the picture, you're always there for me in the end."

The concern doesn't leave Nathan's eyes. She can still see the flickers of pain and worry in his bright blue irises.

"Nate, I'm not about to jump off of a bridge." She tells him firmly. "This is just a picture; all I did was exaggerate an emotion."

Nathan just pulls her into his chest. He hates that she's on her own all day. He hates that she could even have the idea for such a picture.

"Listen," She says, pushing back out of his hold so that she can see into his eyes, "As much as I miss your sorry ass moping around the place all day, it's nice to be able to get some work done. You were a terrible distraction, I hope you know."

The pulling of a smirk flashes over his features but doesn't take hold.

"Nate, it's not me." She repeats, "If I drew something that was a reflection of my life it would be sickeningly cute. Sometimes I play around with emotion but don't you think you'd be able to notice if I was feeling this way?"

"I'd hope." He says thickly, panicking in case he's missed something in his fatigue of overworking.

Her fingers brush his soft hairline, "You would. I know you would."

He swallows and tries to accept what she's pleading him to believe.

"I still hate that you're alone when I'm training all the time." He says in a dull tone.

"Well I don't." She says firmly and twists out of his hold. "And soon enough I'll find some gallery space and I won't have time to miss you."

She pokes her tongue out and Nathan manages a laugh.

"I am so proud of you, Nathan." She whispers, "I would never resent you going out everyday to play."

He brings her head softly to his shoulder, "Maybe, but I still hate it."

He feels her fingers knot through his, "You've made me needy."

"You were always needy, you just thought you weren't." He argues.

"Was not!" She turns to him, her mouth hung open, "I practically grew up by myself in that house."

He scoffs, "You pretty much lived with me from the age of eleven."

"You're a liar, Nathan Scott." She states, "I only stayed at yours so that you wouldn't wet your pants about the monsters in the closet."

"That hurts, Sawyer." He shakes his head at the ridiculousness of her declaration, "You know that I _liked _the monsters in the closet, I hung out with them when Dan had a bad on."

She can't help from chuckle at the mental image forming in her mind.

"Remember the time we climbed onto your roof to hide from your Dad?" Peyton asks, her lips curving to a smile at the memory.

"My Dad bitched about that broken drainpipe for a month. He thought it was the cat." Nathan laughs.

Peyton sighs, shaking her head softly, "Your poor cat."

"What? It's not as though Dan took it out on it." Nathan shrugs.

"I meant the poor cat because you called it Michael _Paw_dan." Peyton begins to cackle uncontrollably, "Animal abuse."

"Come on!" He cries out, "That was inspired."

"It was dumb." She says firmly, "And just how did your Dad expect for the cat to get onto the roof? You overfed it so that it could barely lift itself to its food bowl let alone the second storey."

Nathan strops, "Mike was not fat. He had a thyroid issue."

Peyton tries for a moment to hold a straight face but quickly she gives in and bursts out laughing again, "A thyroid problem?"

"Yes! And don't mock the cat; he didn't do anything to you." Nathan grumbles defensively.

She arches her eyebrows and Nathan realises that she's about to counter that statement with a whole stack of evidence.

"Firstly he always scratched me. Secondly he left hairs on everything. And thirdly, worst of all, he mistook my backpack for his litter tray once." Peyton explains her resentment for Nathan's obese pet.

He meanwhile chuckles at her misfortune, "That was hilarious."

"Was not." She responds with a lame argument.

"You liked that cat." Nathan says in a thoughtful tone, "You read a poem at his funeral."

Peyton pulls a face at the thought, "Only because you were being a sissy about the whole thing, I thought it might cheer you up if I pretended to be half as cut up as you."

"I miss that cat." Nathan admits through a frown, "He was cool, you have to admit."

Peyton shrugs, "He was awesome after some cat nip."

"Do you want to get a cat?" Nathan poses after a moment's thought.

"You mean do I want to spend all of my time clearing up after a cat?" She pushes back.

He rolls his eyes, "Okay, I'll let you name it. That's pretty damn generous."

Peyton stares to him bewildered, "What is with you and the cat thing?"

"Well," He rolls his shoulders and she notes the blush rising in his cheeks. He traces his hand along the windowsill, "Since we don't have a kid,"

Peyton's eyes bulge at the very mention of a child, "_What?_"

"A guy on the team mentioned that we don't have kids and apparently that's weird or something because we've been together forever. I said it's not the right time and he said something about you probably being broody as hell. He suggested maybe we should get a pet." Nathan says in a garbled rushed tone.

Peyton stares back, dumbfounded.

"You don't want a cat?" He guesses.

"Hold up," She puts a hand to her head as she tries to process what he's just said, "Kids? You were talking to _a guy on the team _about kids? You haven't even spoken to _me _about kids!"

Nathan cringes and looks around the small art studio thinking that the place is about to become his prison.

"You want kids?" Peyton asks directly.

"I, um, you know I could do with some water." He goes to leave but she pulls him back with an alarming amount of strength.

"Answer the question." She demands.

He turns to her wide sparkling eyes, "Someday, yeah, I do."

The shiest of small smiles plays across Peyton's lips, "What are you seeing in that head of yours?"

"Okay, well," He cocks an easy half-smile, "I don't see us having kids for a few years, I wanna be there for them, not skipping across states as they have all their milestones. I want to be a good Dad, you know?"

Instantly Peyton softens into the conversation. It's clear that Nathan's put a lot of thought into this and he has aims. The main one is to be nothing like Dan Scott.

"So I'd probably be close to retiring when we have the first one, maybe pushing thirty. I know what you're thinking; older parents." Nathan tries reading her mind.

It's true that they themselves both have youthful young parents but Peyton doesn't really think that thirty is old.

"We'll be more mature then though, less likely to muck up the kid's life." He reasons, "Plus, look at us, if anyone can pull off being an older parent, it's us."

She laughs at his logic and forces him on; she wants to hear more about this family he has mapped in his head.

"So I'm retired and you're a famous, sought after artist. Basically, we're great." Nathan says casually, "So we start with boys, maybe twins."

"No." Peyton cuts in, "No twins and definitely not to start with."

"Okay." He agrees, "Two boys, of different ages, who are madly hyperactive and full of energy. They like playing ball and listening to stupid angsty punk music really loud. They team up and make me play with them all the time. You're like a total soccer Mom who goes crazy on the sidelines of games."

Peyton grins at the picture he's painting her, "So you haven't thought about this too much then?"

He shrugs, "Maybe sometimes when I watch you sleep I like to imagine."

"Oh?" She questions lightly, "Is there more?"

His crystal blue gaze smiles back at her, "And a little girl just like her Mommy. She's all golden curls and rolling green eyes. She's got me wrapped around her little finger, so bad."

"I bet." Peyton laughs, seeing just how much of a pushover parent Nate will be.

"She's got us all; me, you, the boys, everyone dotes on her." Nathan continues, causing Peyton to smile further. "And there's one last member of the family."

Peyton eyes him suspiciously, "Just how many kids do you expect me to push out?"

"Not a kid." He reveals, "An aged cat that we got before the kids were born. A cat you swear you hate because all you do is clean up after it but really you can't see the family without it. And when it dies and you're comforting the kids, you'll read that same poem to them as you did me and your voice will crack in the exact same place."

Peyton's eyes mist over at the words of their fairytale future.

"Babe," he laughs lightly at her sissy behaviour, "Come here you dope."

She falls into his arms and laughs, "So we really have to get a cat?"

"Er, yeah, we really do." He chuckles. Even he has no idea why they're getting a cat. Considering the fact that he spent so long talking her into it, he supposes he better go along with it though.

…

Peyton's relaxing on the couch, flicking through a magazine, when she notices that Nathan's been out of the room for a while. She doesn't keep him on a short leash or anything but she just has the feeling that he's up to something. Due to the fact that he snuck out early that morning and he's been acting edgy all day, she thinks that she has plausible reason to worry.

"Nate?" She leans her head back on the couch and peers down the hall. She frowns at seeing their bedroom door closed. "Nathan Scott! What are you doing?"

He peeks his head out of the door and throws her a cheeky smirk, "I'm just tidying some stuff up."

"Okay," She shakes her head, "That was definitely a lie."

"Yeah it was." He agrees, laughing at his own poor cover up story. He emerges from the bedroom, his hands behind his back.

Peyton turns to kneel on the couch so that she can peer over the back and hopefully wrestle him into turning around. She hates surprises and she knows he's planning something.

As he approaches, she reaches a hand around his back. He's fast though. She blames basketball for that.

"What are you hiding?" She demands.

"Don't worry your pretty little head." He says patronisingly which causes her to scowl.

"Nathan, come on." She begs feebly.

His body seems to slump somewhat at her unwillingness to play, "Just go along with this okay?"

All she sees is a flash of black material as Nathan goes to cover her eyes with an item she just recognises to be one of her scarves. He pulls the fabric tightly over her eyes as she cries out in protest. Instinctively she reaches up to pull the scarf away. He sighs. Her aversion to surprises is tiring sometimes.

"What are you doing?" She asks as he pushes her hands into her lap.

"I'm _trying _to blindfold you." He says in an irritable tone as she squirms beneath his hold, "Would you keep still?"

"No." She replies simply, reaching up for the scarf again as he wrestles against her protesting jerks.

Groaning at her uncooperative behaviour he chooses to change tactics, "Jeez, Sawyer, don't you trust me?"

She takes a little too long to answer, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" He scoffs, still struggling to keep her eyes covered. "All this time and you _don't know_?"

"No, I do. But I hate surprises." Finally she settles, "I trust you though, of course I do."

Gently he secures a knot in the scarf over her untamed ringlets. He's pleased that she can't see his relieved smile, as though he's accomplished something in blinding her.

"Is this just a lame attempt to get me into bed?" Peyton asks mockingly. She recalls the last time he insisted that she wore a blindfold and that had led to him dribbling melted chocolate all down her delicate underwear.

"Babe," He shakes his head although she can't see him, "I don't need to use tactics."

It's lucky that her eyes are covered really, because she doesn't think he'd take to well to the fact that she just rolled her eyes at his conceited nature.

"Right, so why do I have to wear this?" She questions, she hates being – quite literally – in the dark about stuff.

"You'll find out soon enough." He teases.

He's enjoying tormenting her and she knows it.

She screams when he lifts her into his arms. She actually screams. And yet she's not scared at all. She never could be in his arms. He has the most powerful secure grasp, it's impossible to feel anything but completely protected in the arms of Nathan Scott.

He laughs at her cry of girliness and teases her as he walks them out to the car. For once she doesn't hit him with a comeback; she just smiles against his rapidly beating heart.

"I don't suppose you're going to tell me where you're taking me?" Peyton questions as he sits her lightly on the passenger seat. She smiles when she realises that they're in the Comet.

She loves when he drives her car.

"I'm not going to tell you." He says warning her against any more interrogating.

"This feels dumb." She moans, fiddling with the makeshift blindfold as he pulls a seatbelt around her. "Do I look dumb?"

"You couldn't if you tried." He promises her, kissing her lips softly.

There's something incredibly sexy about that blindfolded kiss.

"The top's down." She points out when he pulls away.

His eyes twinkle but she can't see them, "Like you've ever given a damn about what anyone else thinks."

She has to smile at that. He's right; she's never really followed fashion or been anyone but herself for the sake of conforming. For that reason, she lets him drive her away with the top down as she's sat in the front seat with a black scarf tied over her eyes.

"How you doing, Sawyer?" Nathan asks once they're out of their street. His aim is to keep her talking and distract her away from working out the route he's taking.

"The music on this little mystery tour sucks." She pulls a face and although half of her expression is masked, he knows that she's completely disgusted by his 90s hip-hop choosing.

In fact she's so appalled that she reaches blindly for the radio to take action. Nathan slaps her away but she persists.

"No, you're not winning this one." He tells her firmly, "It's not as though you can use those sparkling eyes as a bargaining tool either."

They end up listening to soft rock all the same. Somehow, and Nathan can't begin to explain quite how, she got her way. As she usually does with him.

…

"Am I going to like this?" Peyton asks, grasping blindly at the thin air ahead of her as she tentatively takes a step forward.

Nathan can't help but laugh at her.

"What?" She turns her masked head to face him, "I'm not going to like this?"

"It's hard to tell with you sometimes." He admits with a roll of his shoulders that she's blind to, "You might love it, you might kill me."

Peyton's stomach drops at the admission and she begins to panic. If _he'_s having doubts then she has every reason for plain fear.

She feels his secure hands on her slender shoulders and his warm breath on her neck, "Calm down."

His words are controlled, calm even. That gives her some hope.

"Can we get this over with already?" She pleads. She doesn't like not knowing what's going on.

She assumes that they're in the city from all of the noise around them. Peyton's sure that the only place Nathan knows of in the city is the Bobcats' Arena.

It's not as though she hasn't dragged him Uptown on occasions to visit a museum or restaurant; he just has little interest in bothering to remember such places.

"One minute and I'll reveal all." He commits, gently pulling her forwards by the hand.

hesitantly she steps forwards and allows him to life her chin and direct her unseeing gaze.

"Are you ready?" He asks finally.

She holds back on rolling her eyes, it's a pointless exercise anyway, "I've been ready for about an hour."

"Okay." He reaches up and gently pulls the knot of the scarf loose. The whole time Peyton stands patiently, aware of his nervous breaths increasing by the second.

When the blindfold falls it takes a second for Peyton's eyes to readjust to the light. When they do, she stares forward, a little perplexed. They're in a street uptown or more precisely in front of an empty quaint little store.

"I don't get it." She says, a small frown washing over her features.

Nathan smiles but doesn't say a word. Instead he just takes her hand in his own and presses a key into her palm.

Instantly her eyes widen and she begins to shake her head back and forth.

"It's yours, Baby." He reveals, unable to keep from smiling at her display of complete shock.

"Are you serious?" She gasps, turning to fully appreciate the offering. It's a modest sized place but she can see that it stretches back a fair way. It's light too, lots of windows and well placed lighting fixtures. Perfect for gallery space.

Her curls swing widely as she continues to shake her head in disbelief, "I don't know what to say."

"Say you like it." Nathan suggests wryly.

"I love it." She returns, curving her arms around his neck and pressing a deep kiss to his lips. "It's perfect."

"Do you wanna go inside?" He suggests, incapable of tearing his eyes from her delighted expression. He curses the fact that he didn't bring a camera because he never wants to forget the look on her face.

She's almost glowing with happiness, "Of course I want to!"

She laughs in nervous excitement as he takes the key and turns it in the lock, he then steps back to allow her to enter her empire before him.

"I can see it already." She says, clasping her hands together beneath her chin, "I can see where everything will go."

Nathan grins and revels in watching her fantasize. He loves to see her this way; free-spirited and almost glittering. As she spins and gasps, he switches the lights on. Even to him – the least creative soul – the place seems to come alive.

"It's better than anything I've seen." She tells him joyously.

In the past year or so she's looked at a lot of potential places to set up a gallery. He knows that she steered clear of places like this though in such a prime location for fear of the cost. He loves that he's now in the position to treat her to the luxury of a city gallery, completely paid for.

"There's more." He says with a twinkle in his eye.

She narrows her eyes, "How can there possibly be more?"

Taking her by the hand he leads her to the stairway through a door on the left. As they walk up the steps to the next level, Nathan can feel her excitement in the air.

"And this," He says, throwing out his arm, "Is your studio."

She glances quickly to the vast space before flinging her arms around his neck. It's more than she ever could have wished for.

He leans away from her hold slightly and stares into her sparkling green eyes. The eyes that he pathetically missed for the time that she was blindfolded.

"I told you," He twists his finger around one of her soft curls grazing her cheek, "It's about your dreams now."

Desperately she looks to the ceiling in an attempt to keep from crying, "You have made me,"

She laughs lightly as her voice breaks with emotion.

"You have made me outrageously happy, Nathan Scott."

…

Peyton drops her head onto Nathan's shoulder, her unrelenting smile still sat softly over her lips.

They're sat in the furthest corner of the gallery, in the shadows of the store. Her legs thrown over his and his arm strewn across her shoulders. The shutters are down over the window and it's like their own personal sanctuary.

"Chicken or beef?" Nathan asks, indicating to one of the unopened takeout cartons scattered over the floorboards around them.

"Beef." She decides and he leans over to collect the box with his free hand.

He pops it open and laughs, "It's chicken."

She shrugs lightly and watches him expertly pull a piece of chicken from the carton. He uses the chopsticks she's never been able to master. It's not a tragedy that she can't use the utensils, more a convenient excuse for him to feed her.

He carefully guides the offering into her open mouth and watches as she chews. She flutters her eyelashes slightly to show her heavenly enjoyment, temporarily muted by the satisfying taste.

Nathan sets the box down and idly grazes his fingers across her knee, exposed by the tear in her worn jeans. It's a habit he's picked up over the years without realising it. Peyton doesn't like to point it out to him though, in case he quits doing it.

"How is eating takeout on the floor better than home cooking or restaurants?" She ponders, wiping the corners of her mouth with her pinky.

"Because it's in your gallery?" Nathan suggests, pulling her closer to him.

Her eyes revolve around the space, sparkling in clear bliss, "Say it again."

"_Your_ gallery." He repeats.

She blinks back at him, "_My gallery_. You spoil me."

"It's worth every single cent to see you so happy." He would do anything to fix that smile to her lips permanently, "You look even more beautiful when you smile."

That causes her apple cheeks to rise as her smile deepens at the compliment, "Who knew you could be so sweet?"

"Hey!" He pretends to be offended, "I'm sweet, the sweetest."

Her cackling laugher bounces joyously around the empty room. Nathan pulls his best wounded expression and clutches at his heart.

"Babe, come on." He pleads.

"God," She rolls her glistening eyes at him, "You're so the girl in this relationship!"

His mouth hangs open as her eyes dance with laughter.

"Not even you can get away with saying that." He says with a shake of his head. He pulls her onto his lap and begins to tickle her despite her protests.

"Nathan!" She gasps as she tries to wriggle from his strong grasp.

He laughs as she fidgets and squeals between broken giggles. She'll always deny it but she can be such a _girl_.

"Take it back." He demands, referring to her previous comment.

He totally has the upper hand, they both know it. Yet she refuses to say the words. She's loyally stubborn to the end. Really he should have foreseen it.

After failing to force a retraction from her laughing lips, he lifts to his feet with her still in his arms. He then throws her over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

"Take it back." He repeats.

"You're the girl!" She persists as she powerfully beats his back with her tightly curled fists, "And you cried like a baby when Michael Pawdan died!"

Suddenly, to Peyton's surprise he collapses into a fit of laughter, clutching at his side and gasping for breath. He even has to set her back on her feet in fear of dropping her.

She laughs too, more at his clear insanity than anything else, "What the hell?"

"I just heard how dumb Michael Pawdan sounds." He chokes between chuckles.

"Jeez, only took you a few years to catch up!" She cries in amusement before kissing his curved lips. There's something adorable about him being such an idiot.

Nathan instinctively places his hands on her tiny waist when her lips find his. As the kiss deepens his hands slip beneath the waistband of her jeans, softly spreading over her smooth skin.

She moans lightly into the kiss, her hands squeezing at his athletic upper arms.

"The counter?" He suggests in a mumbled tone when they break apart for a second.

"The counter." She confirms, pulling his polo shirt over his head. Her cloaked eyes flicker over his muscles for a second before she presses her hand against his chest and pushes him backwards.

They move blindly, too lost in one another's touch to notice anything that isn't them. Her nimble fingers work at his belt buckle as they stagger back and quickly she gets him stepping out of his jeans. He slips a bra strap from her shoulder and dusts her newly exposed skin with light butterfly kisses. They're too involved even to register the hit they take as they crash against the wall.

Nathan's warm fingers cover her toned stomach and lift her soft cotton tank top up over her head. He throws the discarded item to the floor and settles his gaze on her lace black bra. She bites down seductively on her lower lip and he rushes to roll her jeans off of her hips to see more of her.

She flutters her lashes a little as he stares, even though she's sure that he's not looking at her eyes. In fact she knows he's not. His gaze is fixed on the dark laced two-piece contrasting against her light tanned skin.

She turns slightly, on her velvet painted toes to give him a glimpse of the way the material edges against the curve of her ass in the way that he loves.

"Come here." He says, and she notes the soft growl behind his words.

Her eyes glaze as she lets him take control. He takes her weight in his arms and sets her down on the counter. Her long legs coil around him just as he'd hoped. He places one hand on her hip, slipping his fingers beneath the lace acting as the final barrier to the desire in both their minds. His other hand reaches smoothly around her back reaching for the clasp of her bra.

As his fingers roam, finding the spot that causes her to scream, Peyton throws her head back with a hollow gasp. Her eyes are almost closed, the softest slither of light reaching through her long lashes. Her coiling ringlets fall down her bare back, tickling on Nathan's hand as he unhooks her underwear.

She moans softly, unable to wait any longer and pulls him down towards her as she lies back on the counter. He holds his weight steady above her as she hurriedly removes his boxers.

It should be a cliché that they're christening the place in such a typical fashion but somehow it's not. Maybe it's the intensity of the heat between them or the love that is always lingering so deeply beyond the lust. Either way it's about more than just desire.

It's not as clichéd as the session in the Bobcats locker room in any case. That was fantasy fulfilment at its sweet best.

"God, I really, really love you." Peyton declares as he trails his lips ever closer to the lacy borders at the top of her inner thigh.

Her fingers lose themselves in his dark locks as her ankles lock around his back. She stares up at the ceiling, the ceiling of her gallery. The place that is hers thanks to the boy in her embrace. He's the boy who's promised to deliver her dreams to her.

She hasn't told him but in one short day he's managed to exceed all of her hopes and wishes, giving her more than she ever thought possible. Not only did he give her the ridiculously generous gift of her own gallery and studio but he showed her a picture of their future together.

It's a future she can't wait to share with him.

* * *

_As always I love hearing your thoughts, let me know what you're thinking, all feedback is appreciated :)_


	4. Called out in the Dark

**_It's been over a year! I can't believe it. I really can't. Everything's racing by so fast. Since that last update I've tried coming back to this story but it's never quite happened, until today when I wrote more than I have in ages! I think a part of that is down to _Nanou_, you reminded me that this story needs serious attention. And I love writing it too. _**

_**I've changed the rating because there's swearing and it all gets a bit blue at the end. I hope you still enjoy though.**_

__...

Nathan smoothes a hand over his hair and pulls his most charming grin to his lips. He knows that she'll see right through it like she always does but he also knows that she'll cave in to the sweet look he's putting on and all will be forgiven. With a deep breath, he lets himself into the gallery.

She hears him come in, even over the loud angsty music she's playing. If she's honest – which she won't be with him – she's been listening out for his sheepish footsteps for the last two hours or so. Even though she's been waiting and she's pleased that he's finally there, she doesn't so much as look up from the wall she's painting.

"Delivery for Peyton Sawyer, hottest guy in the whole of Charlotte, hell, maybe the entire state." Nathan throws his kitbag down on the floor and crosses the room. Peyton's there, staring stubbornly at the wall like it's the most interesting thing in the world. "Come on, Babe."

His hands encircle her waist as his lips serenade her neck. She tuts and swivels in his hold so that they're face to face. Nathan can't help but notice how dangerously close the dripping roller in her hand is to his shirt. Paint doesn't wash out easily. He knows because she's ruined so many of his shirts before. Somehow though she always manages to convince him that his clothes are better to paint in, he blames her legs, they always wear his shirts so damn well.

"Place looks great." Nathan figures that opening with a compliment is a strong start in his quest to make her less mad.

Her eyes narrow as she stares at him, "Do I know you?"

He clutches a hand to his heart, "That's really cold."

"You do look familiar." She shrugs, "Oh yeah, I remember who you remind me of. I used to have this boyfriend – fiancé actually – but he shacked up with his basketball every night, for all I know they eloped and got married."

"Lucky guy." Nathan smirks. He can't help himself from teasing.

In response Peyton glares daggers and then flicks paint over his shirt, knowing that it'll irritate the hell out of him.

Nathan sets his jaw, "You know, I used to have a girlfriend just like you,"

"Girlfriend?" Peyton pushes back, waving to him with her left hand.

The slightest of blushes rises in his cheeks, "Fiancée. I used to have a _fiancée_ like you."

"How did she escape?" Peyton asks, a small smile forming over her lips.

"Haha," Nathan mock laughs, "She ruined all of my clothes with her dumb paint."

Peyton shrugs, "Sounds to me like she just wanted you to take your shirt off."

Nathan snorts and complies with her suggestion; he's never taken much persuading when it comes to her requests to see more of him. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"You bet your ass, you are." She returns, holding a paint brush out to him, "I saved the horrible bits for you."

"Gee thanks." He says, pulling a face but they both know it's only for show. He obediently begins to paint the bare section of wall before Peyton even has the chance to berate him about it.

For a moment Peyton just observes the sight before her. It's not as though it's a bad thing to look at; her man, shirtless and working up a sweat.

"See something you like?" Nathan shoots at her, noticing that she has that certain look in her eye.

Quickly Peyton clears her expression, she's still a little mad that he didn't even call to tell her he'd be so late. "You missed a bit."

He shakes his head as she points to the large white section that he hasn't got to yet.

"You know," He begins cautiously, dropping the paintbrush back into the tin, "All of this red paint; red walls; artwork in every direction…"

His hands settle over her hips and she doesn't push him away. She just smiles a little and raises her eyebrows, "Keep going,"

"Kind of reminds me of when we were younger, at the start of us, being a couple." He continues, pressing his lips to her earlobe, "Your red bedroom, those cheer bloomers on the bed post, that night after we won State."

Peyton can't help but agree, "You were incredible that night."

"On the court or in the bedroom?" He asks.

She slaps him on the shoulder, before sighing, "Both, I guess."

She can feel his smile against her skin. The conceited idiot.

"It reminds me of all that too." Peyton agrees wistfully, "Do you remember painting that room red?"

A coy smile covers Nathan's lips, "What for real, or metaphorically?"

Peyton arches her brow, "Metaphorically? That's a big word."

"Hey," He protests quickly, "I know big words, okay?"

She stifles a laugh and nods softly, "I know you do, Baby. And I remember both the ways we painted that room red. We've painted most rooms red that we've been in actually. I meant the painting party actually."

"That was a party?" He throws back questioningly, "I don't mean to be horrible or anything but no one came."

Peyton just hums lightly, "You did. It doesn't have to be a room full of people to be a party."

They'd been about fourteen, Peyton supposes. Around that age in any case. She tends to remember things using the measure of whether she and Nathan were a couple at that point in time or not. She remembers that when they painted her room they were just friends.

Her Dad was away on a job, it was summer and she was bored. Plus she'd found a pot of the most perfect crimson paint in the garage. A red room seemed like a cool idea.

"You wore cut off dungarees." Nathan recollects, smiling softly, "Your hair was _braided_ and you had paint over your eyebrow. Right there."

He swipes a finger of red paint in a streak over her brow as she laughs, "I called you Tom Sawyer and said if you were lucky I'd let you help me, and if you were really lucky I'd let you pay to help me."

Nathan rolls his eyes, "Yeah and I totally didn't get it. I thought you were just being difficult about your precious room and me messing it up."

"Well, that too." Peyton shrugs, "But if you were literate you may have understood the reference."

"I just kind of wondered why you called me Tom." Nathan admits.

Peyton laughs her rolling amused giggle and throws her head back, her curls falling down her back.

Nathan can't help but smile at her tickling laughter, even though it's at his expense. "Alright, Huckleberry, I know _now_."

"I know." Peyton leans up on her toes and kisses at his lips, "So where have you been, anyway?"

Nathan smirks a little, in a way that she knows to mean that he's done something he maybe shouldn't have. "Just training, Babe."

Her eyelids flutter both adoringly and reproachfully, "You've trained your whole life, Nate. I don't want to lose you to that gym."

"You're not." Nathan assures, "I just lost track of time."

Peyton presses her hands to his upper arms and squeezes as though holding onto him, "Did you have a good session?"

"It was great." Nathan nods, "Now, let me tell you off for spending your whole day inhaling paint fumes."

"Ah," Peyton holds up her finger, her eyes dancing, "Actually, I've only spent half the day painting."

He looks surprised, "I've never known you to be tempted away from painting the walls. Just last month I came home and you were repainting the kitchen. I came back out _naked _and you didn't even _blink_."

Peyton smirks knowingly, "I just wanted to show you that I was right about the grey paint."

"You were." Nathan assures, resting his forehead against hers, "You always are."

"And I so made that up to you." Peyton reminds, resting her hands over his chest.

Nathan shrugs in defeat, "I suppose you did. But what happened today, then?"

Peyton's eyes sparkle causing Nathan to quirk a questioning brow. He's not sure he's going to like where this is going.

"I had a phone call," Peyton begins, "From Brooke Davis."

Nathan's frown deepens, "What did she want?"

Peyton knows how to work him. Her hands tickle all over her torso as her eyelashes flurry and her lips pout. She lifts onto her toes, lengthening her legs further and shakes her wild curls a little. "She's organising a school reunion,"

Instantly Nathan's body wilts in her arms. The last thing he wants to do is meet up with his old school friends to hear about them moan about their jobs, their kids and their wives. It's all they ever do whenever he speaks to one of them, and he doesn't think he could handle a whole night of multiple stories.

"Babe, come on, it could be fun." Peyton whines, her gorgeous green eyes begging to him.

He groans, "It could be awful."

Her lips twist as she rethinks her tactics, "What about for me? I'd love to see everyone again. Plus you could catch up with Lucas, Skills, Jake, Zach…Tim,"

"That's a reason to _not _go." Nathan points out, "Did you see the last email Tim sent me?"

Peyton snorts with laughter, "Yeah, I did. Baby Nathan looks more and more like Tim everyday."

Nathan rolls his eyes at the reminder that his old school friend named his son after him. "Poor kid."

"I really want to go, Nathan." She pleads.

"You _really_ do?" He questions. She hasn't exactly mentioned meeting up with the girls and it's not like Tree Hill's a million miles away; she could see them any time.

She bites down on her lower lip, "I really do."

He exhales a long breath, "Well okay; but you know you owe me, right?"

Her lips break into a wide smile, "It's a good thing I know what you like then."

…

Nathan sighs, drops the remote control and throws his head back on the couch. They've been home for a little over an hour and Peyton's been on the phone to Brooke for the majority of that time. He's sure that she promised him some kind of awesome bedroom time, when they'd rushed from the gallery back home, he hadn't had this in mind.

"Babe!" He calls through the apartment, desperately.

He sees her pad to the open door of the bedroom and holds her finger up to him, telling him to wait a moment. Then she disappears again.

Nathan sighs and stands from the couch and grabs his wallet from the counter. He peeks his head around the bedroom door and waves to catch Peyton's attention. "I'll go grab dinner."

Peyton looks to him guiltily, "I won't be long."

He chuckles in response and shakes his head, before pressing a short kiss to her cheek, "I'll be back in ten."

She watches him leave and then goes back to her conversation. "Sorry, Nate came in."

Brooke laughs from her end of the line, "He didn't hear anything did he?"

"Blissfully unaware." Peyton assures, grinning from ear to ear. "He's just gone to get dinner so I should probably get going."

"Okay." Brooke agrees, "I'm so excited, Peyton!"

"Me too." Peyton gushes, "I'll call you tomorrow, from the gallery when Nate's training."

…

Nathan's still not convinced of the idea of a school reunion two weeks later when they're packed for Tree Hill, sailing down the highway and approaching the town they called home when they were kids.

"There are plenty of better things we could do in Tree Hill you know?" Nathan tries to reason, as he changes lanes.

Peyton smiles across at him, there's something about seeing Nathan drive her Mercury Comet that makes her weak. She knows it's about the last car on earth that he'd choose for himself, but he looks so incredibly cool driving it that she insists on it sometimes. "Like what? Play ball at the rivercourt?"

"That," Nathan points to her, "Is not a half bad suggestion. And if you want to wear that old cheerleading outfit that I know is still bundled in your closet at your Dad's, I would not complain a bit."

Peyton wrinkles her nose, "We haven't worn out the jock and the cheerleader thing?"

"Never." He assures grinning.

"Well we're going to the reunion. I promised Brooke and I bought a nice dress." Peyton says defiantly and Nathan already knows he's lost.

"That dress had better be short." He growls back. It's about the only thing he can see as being good about this damn party that Brooke Davis is throwing.

She laughs, and behind her aviator shades, he knows that her eyes are sparkling, relishing somewhat in his torment. "It's short, baby, I promise."

"Good." He settles, taking the road for Tree Hill.

As they pass by the sign for the small town, Peyton beams. They don't get to Tree Hill as often as they would perhaps like. It's a place of good memories they shared together as kids; bad ones too, but mostly good. Everywhere she looks, she's reminded of their youth spent together.

"You okay?" Nathan asks from beside her, reaching his arm out for her to fall into. He brushes his thumb rhythmically over her shoulder. His eyes cast a steady gaze over her. He knows that as much as she's excited to come home; to see her Dad and her friends, it will always be the place that took her Mom away from her.

She nods assertively, "Yeah. I'm fine."

But she nestles into his chest and wraps her arms around his chest. She doesn't want to talk about that right now, and he gets it. So he loses his fingers in her hair and points out places they made out (there are a lot) and it makes her laugh. A lot.

Eventually, after the long trip, they pull up outside Peyton's childhood home. It looks the same as ever. Larry's on the porch, smiling back at them. He sets down his newspaper and coffee and jogs down the porch steps to greet them.

"Dad! Hi!" Peyton hurries from the car and wraps her arms around her father. Both of them hold on a little tighter than most.

"It's good to see you, kiddo." He says when they finally pull apart. "Really good."

She beams back as Nathan steps forward, his hand extended to his future father-in-law, "Mr Sawyer."

Larry shakes his head and pulls Nathan into a quick hug. "I think we've known each other long enough, you're already a part of my family, Nathan."

"Thank you." Nathan nods. Lord knows his father is far from the embracing loving type. He indicates to the trunk as father and daughter begin catching up.

He leaves them to it and gathers all of their luggage to take up to their room. Usually they're light packers, but for some reason, for this trip, Peyton insisted on him taking his best suit and her dress in zip-lock bags, along with separate boxes for their shoes, as well as the usual essentials in a couple of holdalls. Anyone would think he's travelling with a girl.

When he enters the house, he can hear Larry and Peyton laughing in the kitchen. And maybe now he's not feeling so resentful about this trip, because hearing that sound may have just made it all worth it.

He pads up the stairs and goes to the familiar front bedroom that he's frequented on many occasions. It's still crimson red, and he would be a little mad if Larry decided to ever change it. The place holds a ridiculous amount of memories for him. Teenage Peyton was unpredictable, difficult at times, wild, and intoxicating to be around. She's still all of those things, but back then she was perhaps a little more unpredictable, more difficult, certainly wilder but equally as intoxicating. This room reminds him of each and every one of the reasons why he loves her.

He spends some time looking over her old artwork still tacked to the walls. Her work amazes him, sincerely. He's seen a lot of it, and it still astounds him. The way she manages to capture all sorts of emotions, is the thing that really gets him. He couldn't even describe them, let alone draw them.

"Like what you see?" Peyton asks. She's stood in the doorway, her arms folded and her knee bent, her foot rested against the frame.

He smirks back at her, it should be surreal and perhaps a bit weird, but it isn't. "You bet, especially those cheer bloomers. Kind of kinky that you still have them."

"I do not!" She cries and steps forward to slap him and kiss him.

"Mmm." He smirks, "You know that being in this room makes be feel like a teenager again."

"I had got that impression." She confirms, laughing. "Well, my Dad has run out to the store."

"That settles it." He declares, lifting her and throwing her down on the bed.

…

A few hours later and Nathan's no longer enjoying Tree Hill. He's in her room, tying his tie and wishing that they didn't have to go out and be sociable to a bunch of people he barely remembers, for the most part.

Peyton's been locked in the bathroom for the past half an hour, which is a little weird; she's not that girl. He sighs and taps on the door.

"Yeah?" She calls back, sounding absolutely nowhere near ready. They're going to be late, but he doesn't mind that so much.

"I'll be downstairs." He tells her, hoping that Larry has some beers in that fridge.

Luckily the older man does. When Nathan walks into the kitchen, Larry's already uncapping two.

"She was like this at Prom you know." He says through a slight chuckle, "Would you believe?"

"She was?" Nathan was her date, obviously, but he didn't know that. When he'd turned up at her house, she'd been upstairs getting ready but he'd assumed that in typical Peyton Sawyer fashion she'd probably spent most of that time sketching or searching for a suitable pre-prom playlist. God knows she'd complained about the DJ set and the band when they were there.

"I think that her and Brooke started preparations about lunchtime." Larry reveals, "And no, I don't get it either."

Nathan laughs and sips his beer. Peyton taking hours to get ready is of course a completely unnecessary venture. She doesn't need to try. Ever.

"Peyton showed me pictures of the gallery; it was a really nice gift, Nate." Larry compliments. He genuinely likes Nathan, at one point, when he was cradling his newborn baby girl at the hospital, he was sure that no guy would ever be good enough for her. But he can see that Nathan is.

Shaking his head, Nathan grins, "You should have seen the look on her face. She had no idea."

"That sounds dangerous." Larry remarks, knowing how his daughter can be with surprises.

"You're telling me." Nathan agrees. "It's been so tough on her, and she's just been incredible, through my injury and the struggle to get to the NBA. I wanted to give her something to say that it's not all about me, and to say thank you."

Larry nods, "You're a fine young man."

Nathan takes the praise graciously, a small part of him wishing that those words had come from his own father. He tips back his bottle again and gulps at the beer, then stills when he feels another presence in the room.

Both men turn, their eyes both falling over the shyly smiling blonde lingering in the hall.

"Get in here," Larry instructs, "We wanna tell you how beautiful you are."

She clicks into the room and Nathan marvels at the sight of her, from her heeled feet to head. She's in some incredible shoes, all stiletto heels and dark navy ribbon. They're a work of art in their selves. As promised, her dress is short. It's slinky and tight in all the right places, and splays out at the hem, a few inches above her knees. And best of all, it's Raven blue. Her hair's in loose curls, just as he loves and her eyes are alight with excitement.

"You look gorgeous." He manages in a breathy tone, "And I love the colour."

Her features soften from nervous to thrilled, "You noticed!"

"Babe, of course I did." He assures and pulls her forward to kiss her.

"You kids have a good night." Larry says as they pull away. "Have her home by midnight."

His eyes crinkle at the corners as he laughs, both Nathan and Peyton know that he's joking. Peyton kisses her Dad goodbye and they head out to the Comet, Nathan even holds the door open for her.

"Last chance," He offers, "We can go anywhere you like."

Peyton rolls her eyes, "Nice try."

…

Peyton seems nervous, Nathan can't help from notice. It's so unlike her. Her foot's tapping in the footwell and her nails are tapping at the screen of her cell phone. Even the CD Nathan put on for her, one of the mixes he'd found in her room earlier, hasn't calmed her.

He pulls into the lot of Tree Hill High, cuts the engine and looks over to her heavily, "Okay, Sawyer, what's going on?"

Her eyes fly to him, surprised, "What? Nothing. I promise. Shall we go?"

She's out of the car before he can get the door for her this time. She does let him slip his arm around her back though as they approach the gym that was once a second home to Nathan.

When they're outside the door, Peyton takes a cool breath and Nathan frowns down at her. He's about to question her, when she pushes the door open and Nathan's words are interrupted by the sound of applause.

He looks to the crowd in front of him, clapping madly at their appearance and then back at his girl. She's biting down on her lip, her eyes shining madly back at him.

"Peyt, what, I mean…what is this?" He asks, confused.

She laughs, "It's all for you, Nate. This isn't a school reunion, it's a party to celebrate you making it."

He splutters some kind of laugh out and then turns back to her, "You."

"Yeah, and it was so worth it." She smiles back, her smile as wide as he's ever seen it.

Coach Durham steps forward, his hand outstretched to grasp Nathan's. "Well done, son. We were all rooting for you."

Finally Nathan's shock resides a little and he grins, allowing himself to be pulled into the sea of congratulating faces.

Peyton lingers back a little and watches on proudly.

"It went good, huh?" Brooke Davis sidles up beside her. "I told you I had it all covered this end."

"You did." Peyton smiles, "Now I need a drink!"

Brooke laughs and loops her arm through the blonde's, "That, I can definitely do."

She guides them to the bar and clicks to the tender whom she has clearly become acquainted with. Quickly the girls are presented with two full glasses, and a cheeky wink for Brooke.

"We thought that we'd do the speech pretty soon." Brooke says, "Then we can all get on with partying. Mouth has a set ready, and along with your Dad - who is still a total DILF by the way - we've got what we hope is some music that you approve of."

Peyton smiles, "I don't think anything could make this night bad."

She turns, and collides slightly with another body. She goes to apologise and meets the gaze of none other than Dan Scott.

"Mr Scott."

"Miss Sawyer." He nods curtly and sips at his whiskey. Thankfully, Deb's there to save this situation.

"Peyton! Everything's wonderful, look at out boy!" The group all look to Nathan who is amongst his old Ravens team mates, still smiling. "Everyone's so proud of him. The whole town's been talking about him making the NBA."

"He deserves it." Peyton says simply. Deb and Brooke nod, but Dan says nothing.

Finally, after an awkward silence, Deb ushers Dan over to speak to another couple. Peyton lets out a small sigh of relief.

"_That's_ Nathan's Dad?" Brooke questions, to which Peyton nods. "He could at least pretend to be happy for his son! He's a celebrity in Tree Hill now!"

"That's Dan Scott." Peyton shrugs. "The truth of it is, I think he's a little jealous."

"Of his son?" Brooke asks.

Tilting her head, Peyton sighs, "A little, perhaps more the fact that Nathan got there by himself in the end. I think that's what stung."

Brooke nods, "Right, I just saw your Dad get here, I'll let Whitey know it's almost time."

She dashes away and Peyton goes to greet her Dad who had to quickly change and rush over here after they left. "Dad, hey!"

"How was the big reveal?" He asks.

"Better than I imagined it." Peyton waves to the bar tender and orders a drink for her Dad and Nathan, "Whitey's about to say his piece."

Larry's eyes are on the dark haired man who's centre of attention for the night, "You didn't want to say anything? You organised this whole thing, Peyton."

"No." She says firmly, "I think I've already told him how proud I am enough times, and I'm sure I will do plenty more. This should come from the Coach."

Larry sips at his drink and glances over the rest of the room, "What about Dan? Surely-,"

He's cut off by the shaking of Peyton's head. "Don't ask. It's a miracle he's even here. God that man's an ass, he can't even be happy for Nathan."

Larry's eyes narrow, at the man in question. He doesn't understand it either. "I never liked that man."

Peyton's head turns back to her Dad, it's not often she hears such statements from him. "You didn't?"

"No." Larry confirms, "He deserted one son and then worked Nathan so hard, even when he was a little boy. I don't think he ever realised how lucky he was. Your Mom, on the other hand,"

Peyton's eyes go wide.

"She always seemed to believe that there was something beneath that exterior of Dan's." Larry says as Peyton nods, she remembers Anna saying something similar to her. "I've never witnessed it myself, but your Mom, she had a way of knowing these things."

Peyton considers those words, but can't help from wondering whether, on this particular occasion, her Mom was wrong.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" Brooke calls from the end of the room a microphone in hand, "If you'd all like to make your way over, Coach has a few words he'd like to say."

The crowd complies, and in the movement, Peyton and Larry are reunited with Nathan. All he can say is mutterings of _incredible _and _crazy _and _ridiculous_, _I need a drink_, and _Tim actually kissed me_.

Peyton passes a beer over and squeezes his hand tightly. She could not be happier to be the one that did this for him.

"Hello, All." Whitey greets the room in a gravely tone. "We're all here to celebrate one of Tree Hill's own tonight. I'm sure that you all have your own stories and memories with Nathan. He certainly is a character."

The room laughs, most of them thinking back to Nathan in high school.

"When I met Nathan, he was a skinny kid entering high school. And he thought that he was the best damn athlete to ever walk into my gym! Well, what do you know, that sharp talking, cheeky kid, he may have been right."

Nathan raises his beer bottle in agreement.

"In those four years that I had him on my team, I'm not sure whether it was me running that show, or him. This boy - man, now - he breathes in basketball. If he didn't like my game plays, he didn't hesitate to tell me so. And the worst of it? He was never wrong. Sure, he was the most arrogant damn kid I've ever taught but when he got on that court, every Friday night, he brought it for the _team_. He broke the scoring record, and he still holds it today. It was a sorry day that he left for college, let me tell you."

Nathan nods in agreement, he was sorry to leave the Ravens too.

"He soared at college. I know, I watched everyone of his games like a proud father." Whitey winks to Nathan as Peyton presses closer to him. "There were a lot of other eyes on him too, let me tell you. And course, he was called up."

Whitey sighs then and Peyton can already feel the tears in her eyes.

"Then Nathan got in a car wreck." Whitey shakes his head, "No one was sure that he'd play again, let alone get offered another place in the NBA. But if there's one thing that kid knows, it's hard work. His whole life has been basketball, he was born into this game. So he was never going to be the type to watch that dream die. He fought back, he fought hard, and he made it. He got drafted by the Charlotte Bobcats. And today, it is my greatest pleasure to invite Nathan Scott here with me, as we retire his jersey number for the Tree Hill Ravens. The number 23, in this gym, will always be yours, Nathan."

"Jeez," Nathan breathes unsteadily, wiping the back of his hand, "This is too much."

Peyton pushes him forward, towards Whitey, tears already rolling down her cheeks.

Whitey hugs Nathan tightly and then indicates to the veiled curtain covering a spot on the wall; high and proud in the gym. "If you'd do the honours, Nathan."

Gladly, Nathan takes the cord in his hand and pulls, unveiling his jersey, the number 23 gloriously looking down at them all.

He shakes his head and looks between his nodding coach and his sobbing girl. The rest of the room is clapping, even Dan Scott, although a little reluctantly, Nathan notices. When the room stills and silence falls, he realises that it's his turn to speak.

"Wow." Nathan chuckles slightly, "I can't believe that you guys all came out here tonight for me. Because Whitey's right, I was a big-headed kid when I was here. I'm humbled, actually, because I'm pretty sure I don't deserve all of this. So thank you, really, you have no idea what it means to see you all here tonight. I won't go on for long, I promise; I'm not very good at these speaking gigs."

The crowd of friends could disagree, but they just smile him on.

"I just have one more thing I have to say." His eyes find Peyton in the crowd and he winks. "There's no way I would be stood here today, if it wasn't for one person; my amazing better half, Peyton."

She blushes instantly and shakes her head stubbornly.

"She's everything. Whitey was actually wrong before, he said my whole life is basketball, but not quite. I met her when I was five years old and she's been the best part of my life ever since." Nathan raises his drink in a toast, "So, here's to you guys, to the game, my time here and to the most beautiful girl in the room."

The crowd cheers and raises their glasses.

"To Nathan." Peyton calls over the murmurs. It's his night, the toast should be about him.

"To Nathan!" The room echoes.

…

Nathan settles his hand at the base of Peyton's spine, over the material of her dark dress. Her lips curve as she brings the rim of her glass to her mouth and sips her champagne. He arches his brow suggestively and lowers his hand further, down the curve of her ass.

Leaning in towards her, his cheek brushes against her golden curls, "You look fucking hot tonight, Sawyer."

Her hand settles over the lapel of his jacket, stroking at the soft material. He looks hot in a suit, always has done, but tonight her looks phenomenal. "Not so bad yourself, Scott."

"What do you say we blow this joint?" He murmurs, her perfume catching in the air he inhales. He stands behind her slightly, so that he can wrap his arms around her waist and whisper into her ear easily.

She turns her head to him, "We can't leave, this is _your_ party!"

He shrugs, and tickles one hand lower, down her smooth hip and towards her upper thigh, "So I can do what I want."

"_Nathan_," She hisses at the proximity of his hand to her knicker line, but there's laughter in her voice. "We couldn't. You should be talking to everyone; people have come out tonight to see you. What about Whitey…Keith and Karen…Skills…"

Nathan chuckles gently in her ear, "You know what, all those people would understand."

She gasps and turns to slap him playfully, "Karen wouldn't." She argues, weakly, she admits.

"She so would." Nathan counters, and he sees Peyton biting down on her lower lip. They both know that even Karen would understand. "Besides, it's my party, and I want my last present. You."

"I got you an i-pad." Peyton tells him, turning so that they're face to face, her hand on his broad shoulders. She smiles up at him, her eyes dancing contentedly.

He hangs his head, "And I love it, babe, I do. But I love you more."

"Oh, you're good," Peyton drawls, slipping her arms around his neck and pressing a kiss to his lips. She closes her eyes and spreads her fingers though his hair, grazing her thumbs against his earlobes.

Nathan slides one of his hands beneath the veil of her curling hair and under the strap of her blue dress. His fingers glide over her bra strap and massage at her shoulder blade.

Peyton moans into the kiss, her lips parting to allow his tongue to explore her mouth. He tastes champagne on her breath and warmth in her mouth. His tongue meets hers and they marry in a dance, jostling and urging. Their bodies press together, and Peyton works at untying the knot of Nathan's tie.

They break apart, slowly, reluctantly and solely through fear of their guests being spectators for too long a show.

"Convincing argument." Peyton says, a little breathlessly.

Nathan looks to her a little smugly, "So you're ready to go to bed?"

Her lips twist, because she's not the kind of girl who likes to admit losing an argument. "I guess we could skip out."

"That's my girl." He smirks.

"Well, what other way is there to celebrate getting into the NBA?" She questions, laughing. It's not as though she's organised a really impressive black tie party and gathered their friends and family from all over the country. Nothing like that.

He shrugs, "Exactly, and it's not my fault you look so damn gorgeous."

Peyton arches her brow and empties her glass of her drink. "Are you complaining?"

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Nathan puts to her. He slips his fingers through hers and flicks his eyes to the door. "We can make it. It's easy."

She looks unconvinced, "Five bucks someone stops us."

"Come on." He responds, persuading her along with a tug on her hand.

She splutters a laugh as she skitters in her heels. Clearly Nathan's using speed rather than stealth to aid their exit. "Nathan!" She cries as she struggles to keep pace with her athlete boyfriend.

He slows and turns to her winking, "Oh, to hell with it, like they won't guess."

Peyton looks confused for a moment, until Nathan stops, wraps one arm around her shoulders and scoops his other beneath her legs, lifting her easily from the ground. She shrieks in surprise and a few heads turn at the spectacle.

Nathan chances a charming grin at the room, "Thanks for coming."

Then, before Peyton can berate him or apologise, they're out in the corridor, still with her in his arms.

Nathan's glad that Peyton organised the gathering at the school, having been a teenage couple there, they know a few good make out spots. He doesn't think he'd last the journey back to Larry's.

He pulls her along until he can't take it anymore, and they both crash into the boys locker room. Peyton presses hungry kisses to his neck, her tirade is only broken when she takes his tie between her teeth and pulls it free from his collar.

"I can't take it." Nathan crashes her body against the bank of lockers and pins her there with his own. She's already unbuttoning his shirt at a brisk pace, her fingertips moving feverishly over his bare chest and her lips coolly kissing him, the wetness of her tongue streaking down towards his navel.

She can feel him, being so flush against her, as his urge grows against her hip. She hooks her leg around his, letting the material of her dress gather, bunched at her pelvis. Nathan slides his hand from her ankle, up her smooth shin, over her bent knee and down her long bare thigh.

"Hold on," He murmurs, his lip caught between her teeth.

"No," She moans, "Don't stop,"

He chuckles, "No, I mean _hold on_,"

She does. One of her hands grips his collar and the other clutches his wide bicep. Both her feet lift from the ground and her legs wrap around his hips; he holds her easily with one hand beneath her tight ass.

"I can't believe we're going this here. Again." She says breathily.

"We could be _anywhere_." Nathan moans, "I can't wait, I just have to have you, now."

She answers by tugging his jacket from his shoulders, with no concern to the price of the fine tailoring. His shirt hangs unbuttoned; the soft white cotton hugs at his biceps. She kisses at his neck and drags her teeth over his ear, whispering begs and promises.

Nathan sets her back on her feet and unzips her dress. It drops to the floor leaving her in only her blue lace underwear and those killer heels. Nathan spreads his hand wide over her rib cage, his eyes flying feverishly over her exposed skin.

Peyton kinks her brow and runs her fingers slowly down his chest, down to the waistband of his pants. She crouches to unfasten his belt, flicking her glance up to him seductively every second moment. He moans, feeling his pants tighten at the feel of her delicate touch skimming over the height of his groin.

"Hang on, baby," She teases, her bra straps falling from her shoulders as she tussles with his belt.

"Come on, Peyt," He urges, his hands bunching her hair in anticipation as she kneels at his feet.

Her fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers and she gently eases the material from his warm body. Taking the base of his penis in one hand, she licks her lips seductively and bows her head. She greets him with a wide kiss, her tongue circling the head. She feels Nathan's fist clench her hair in his tight grasp as she bobs her head back and forward, her eyes dancing and sparkling up at him.

"Oh God," He grunts, biting down hard on his lower lip as Peyton works him the right way. She hums gently as she works, the vibrations racing from her mouth and straight up his spine. She reaches with one hand for his ass and grips on tightly, her fingernails indenting half moons in his skin, but he relishes the pain. "_Fuck,_ that's it…Peyton, that's it."

She grins, although her mouth's a little full and increases the pressure. His shout echoes around the room and the lockers rattle as he falls back against them, euphoric. Peyton pulls out slowly, her brow arched as she uses her thumb and forefinger to wipe the corners of her mouth subtly, "So, how are you going to thank me?"

He leans his head back and exhales largely, "Anything you want."

Peyton smiles at him with her eyes and lays down on the bench in the centre of the locker rows, knowing it will drive him mad. She casts her eyes to the floor before looking back at him with a dark, hooded look. With a long controlled breath she blows her bangs out of her eyes. "We need to hit the pool."

Nathan smirks, "You look so sexy right now, you know that?"

She laughs softly, "It's kind of what I was going for. Now get over here and kiss me."

Quickly he steps forwards and complies, his hand running over her teasing skin. "The pool's a deal, but I'm not letting you get dressed again." He challenges, his voice husky in her ear.

Finding his boxers amongst the discarded heap of garments on the floor, he quickly pulls them over his hips. Peyton laughs a little at the protrusion still evident in his underwear.

"You think he's just going to drop off to sleep now? After that?" He shakes his head. "We're wide awake here."

Peyton chews happily on her lip.

"Here," Nathan passes his suit jacket to her.

Her brow puckers into a frown, "Your jacket?"

"Yep." He steals a glance her way, "I said you're not getting dressed again, I want to see your legs walk down to that pool."

She snaps her glance back to the garment in his hand. She doesn't say anything; instead she takes it from him and slips it over her shoulders. He watches as she laces one button together, looking like a bond girl as she does. He appreciates the sight of his girl; curls spilling down her back, his jacket gaping to reveal the valley of her soft breasts, and finishing just above the curve of her ass cupped by her lace knickers. And then there are her legs, spilling on almost endlessly in her soaring heels.

"You want me to wear just this?" She asks for clarification.

He laughs and kisses her hard on the lips, "I don't even need to think about my answer." He zips his pants up and reaches for his shirt, but her hand coils around his wrist.

"If I'm bearing my legs here, there's no way you're covering up that chest." Her eyes glitter and he shrugs easily, throwing his shirt and her dress over his shoulder.

He holds out his hand and she takes it, rolling her eyes at him, and at herself, she supposes.

She moves towards the door to the corridor as Nathan presses a kiss into her curls, "I would be so bored without you."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Peyton laughs as they peek their heads out of the door.

"Ready?" Nathan asks.

"Set." Peyton squeezes his hand.

"Run!" Nathan commands, pulling her out into the corridor. They skip and chase down the hall, closing their eyes as they sprint past the gym where Nathan's party is probably still being held. Nathan banks right and Peyton follows suit, teetering slightly on her stilettos.

"Nate!" She laughs as he leads her to pool.

She can't help the smile that rushes to her lips as they reach the pool area. The water glistens ice blue, reflecting crystals all around the room.

"It's beautiful." Peyton gushes.

"It's fucking sexy." Nathan corrects, kinking his brow. He pulls her towards him, so that she's flush against his bare chest. Her lips find his and they crash together, hungrily. Nathan moans into the kiss and lays his hand flat against her smooth stomach, slowly edging lower in a teasing manner. Her hands coil around his neck, soon her fingers are lost in his hair and her tongue is exploring his mouth fervently. He can tell that she's tired of waiting now.

Carefully he skims his fingers around the waistband of her underwear, tickling at her soft skin. She moans lowly, sucking on his upper lip, threatening with her teeth. Nathan grins beneath her kiss and lowers his hand between her legs. She's warm and wet.

"Come on," She drawls breathily. Her hands are grasping at his biceps; her leg 's curling around his and her lips are eating at every part of his skin that they touch.

He holds out a little longer, and then begins to massage her clitoris with his thumb and forefinger. He moves his lips to her ear, his breath warm in her ear, "I guess it's time I get wet too."

He takes his hand from her underwear and wraps his strong arm around her waist, he pulls her forwards and launches them both at the water. She screams a little in shock and then laughter bubbles from her lips. He smirks, happily, even though she can't see it.

They hit the water heavily, a splash echoing around the room. A moment later they surface, laughing together.

"You could have given me fair warning!" Peyton berates, sweeping her soaking locks back from her face and then splashing water into his face childishly.

"What fun is that?" Nathan replies, and then pushes down on her shoulders to sink them both again.

Under the water they spin in each other's embrace, smiling and kicking like they're weightless. They break the surface again, only to take in another large breath of oxygen, and then they dip in again. They undress, somehow, helping each other with clasps and ties, and then emerge locked in a kiss.

"I love you, Nathan Scott." Peyton murmurs as their lips break apart. Her legs encase his waist in a naked embrace.

He shakes his head, "Not as much as I love you right now. Not possible."

She goes to argue back; they could go back and forth all night, but he stops her with another kiss. It's long, determined and eager. He can feel her energy seeping from her kiss, her touch and the lust in her eyes. Her hips begin to rock in rhythm as she kisses him deeper.

"Ready, Baby?" He asks her, taunting her.

She rolls her bright green eyes to the ceiling, "You better rock my world, super star."

He obliges, naturally, her back against the wall of the swimming pool, his arms holding her strongly. He kisses her from forehead to navel, his head dipping above and beneath the water, his lips slipping wetly over her body. One hand massages at her breast whilst the other one traces high up her thigh. Peyton hums and murmurs under her breath as he gets to work.

"Oh God, Nathan," She cries out as he increases the pressure and pace, "_Now_,"

Nathan smirks, his tongue edging to the corner of his mouth in a fulfilled manner. "Done."

He enters her slowly, letting the water rush around them as he picks up the pace and begins to find his rhythm. Peyton gasps and urges as Nathan presses his face to her shoulder, she can feel him panting fiercely as he pumps harder. When he thrusts deeper, her fingernails claw at his back, but it only urges him on.

They slide a little, as their enthusiasm builds. The water trills around them, rippling at their ferocious movements, but they're almost unaware of everything around them. As Nathan feels his climax nearing, he lifts his head from where it's nuzzled in Peyton's neck. He notes the complete look of ecstasy in her eyes as they roll back to the ceiling, and he smiles. With one final burst of energy, he comes inside her and she screams out with pleasure. As he slows she's still whimpering and gasping, her hands sliding wildly over him in the water.

"Babe," Nathan begins slowly, shaking his head.

"I can't." She manages, completely breathless.

He gets it, he feels the same. As though all they want to do now is let the water hold them up, so that their muscles don't have to work anymore tonight. Lazily they embrace and let the gentle bobbing of the water keep them afloat.

Peyton arches her back inwardly slightly and propels her hips back and forth a few times as Nathan's often seen her do. He guesses that she's easing herself out of the feeling a little; as though her body's not quite ready to let go immediately.

Eventually, once the buzz has faded a little, they drift tighter into one another's arms and kiss like they did the day that Nathan proposed.

"Best party ever." Nathan declares.


End file.
